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J^rom the ptage Coach 

TO THE PULPIT. 



From the Stage Coach 



TO 



THE PULPIT, 



BEINQ AN AUTO-BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, WITH INCIDENTS 
AND ANECDOTES, OF 



S' 



y 



ELDER HkTK. STIMSON, 



THE VETERAN PIONEER OF WESTERN NEW YORK, 
NOW OF KANSAS. 




EDITED BY REV. T. Wj GREENE, 

OF KANSAS. 



>/ 

//^',/ >:,-' 



SAINT LOUIS : ^^y 

E. A. CAMPBELL, PUBLISHEE, 

S. E. Cor. Fifth and Olive Sts. 
1874. 



/y7t 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1874, by 

H. K. STIMSON, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 




ST. LOUIS, MO., 

BARNS & BEYNON, 

Printers and Stereotypers, 

215 Pine Street. 



CONTENTS. 



PAQB. 

Author's Preface, - ... - 9 

Editor's Preface, ----- 10 

Introduction, ----- 11 

Poetry, -------14 

CHAPTER I. 
Birth. — ^Boyhood, ----- 17 

CHAPTER H. 
Running away from Home. — Stage Driving and Stage 
Drivers, - - - - - - 27 

CHAPTER HI. 
Returning Home.— First Interview with my Father, 40 

CHAPTER ly. 
Courtship and Marriage. — Early Married Life, 64 

CHAPTER V. 
A Turning Point. — ^Victory over Whisky.— ^A Shoot- 
ing Match, Etc., - - - - 66 

CHAPTER VI. 
A Search for a Church, - - - - 86 

CHAPTER Vn. 
The Church Found, - - . . 92 

CHAPTER Vm. 
A Year of Jubilee, ----- 98 



6 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

CHAPTEE IX. 
Shalt. I Pbeach? — First Pastorate, - - 106 

CHAPTER X. 
Leaving Alabama. — Parma, - - - - 133 

CHAPTER XI. 
A Trial of Open Communion, - - - 162 

CHAPTER Xn. 
An Old Sore. — Second Widowhood, - - 168 

CHAPTER Xm. 
Evangelizing. — ^Pastorate at Warsaw, - 174 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Wheatland, ------ 188 

CHAPTER XV. 
Adrlin, -----. 203 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Penn Yan, - - - - - 212 

CHAPTER XVn. 
Marion, ------ 227 

CHAPTER XVm. 
Racine, ------- 236 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Re-Settlement at Warsaw, - - . 240 

CHAPTER XX. 
La Grange. — The War, - - - - 242 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Ho for Kansas, ----- 279 



CONTENTS. • 

CHAPTER XXn. 
A Kansas Field, - - - • - 287 

CHAPTER XXm. 
Closing the War in Missouri, - - - 295 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
"Ottawa University" and Leavenworth, - 308 

CHAPTER XXV. 
The Baptist Tabernacle, - - ■ 322 

CHAPTER XXVI. 
KiNDERHOOK. — "Wheatland, - - - - 829 

CHAPTER XXVn. 
Burlington, Kansas, - - - « 335 

CHAPTER XXVm. 
Old Memories, ----- 341 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
Elder Weaver, - - , - - 348 

CHAPTER XXX. 
Reflections. — Home Again, - - - • 8d3 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

MlSCELLANT, ------ 864 

CHAPTER XXXn. 

Sermons, ------- 388 

CHAPTER XXXHI. 
A Night with the Rackensacks and Pukes, - 416 

CONCLUSION. , 
Personal Sk^etch by the Editor, - - 424 



THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 



In pkesenting this volume to the Christian Public and 
"the rest of mankind," I know that I am liable to severe 
criticism, to which I do not object if it is made in kind- 
ness. Such has always done me good. 

I have had a maxim through life, I once invented in self- 
defense, that a man that can't spell a word but one way, is 
a literary fool. For the practical illustration my manuscript 
affords that I am not a fool in this sense, if it appears on the 
printed page, you can blame the editor. Key. T. W. Greene. 

I make no claim to originality, except in memory. This 
I have endeavored to use to the best advantage in applying 
other men's thoughts and principles. I believe in the largest 
liberty to all men in advocating their views and sentiments, 
if not dogmatic and superstitious. I advocate a liberal edu- 
cation, a liberal contribution to all benevolent institutions, 
and large donations to ministers. 

I have no great enemies, except the devil. All others are 
of small calibre and not worth a notice. I love all mankind, 
and good horses. For the rest of the world I care but little, 
as I am nearly through it. 

I wish you to buy the book, pay for it and read it. Then 

you will have a consciousness of two things : first, you own a 

book and are independent. Second, you are helping an old 

man and woman to a little support in the evening of life. 

May God bless you. 

H. K. S. 

Burlington, Kansas, 1874. 



THE EDITOR'S PREFACE, 



I BELIEVE in preaching and like to preach. I also believe 
in writing and like to write, especially when helping to 
increase the acquaintance of the world with so genuine a 
man, and one so wide-awake for Christ, evenin the even- 
ing years of life, as Father Stimson. 

I have enjoyed the work of preparing the manuscript of 
this book for the press. As Dr. Bushnell would say, it 
has been play for me. It was nearly done before I knew it. 
Only a few weeks of an exceedingly hot season have been 
spent by Father Stiihson in preparing the pencil notes good 
and ample, and by myself in making them comply with the 
exactions of the printer, and a little more fully represent the 
Autiior ; and that, too, in the midst of uninterrupted pastoral 
work on the part of both. 

My only wish is that the book may be read by many 
dming his life here and after he has entered on the better 
life, and with the same relish with which the labor of pre- 
paring it has been accomplished. Then I shall be sure it 
will do more good than we both could have done in the 
same time in any other way. 

T. W. G. 

Junction City, Kansas. 



INTEODUCTION. 

It was in the winter of 1843, I first saw Kev. H. K. 
Stimson. It was in mv native town in Western New York, 
and at an age when my mind was very easily impressed by 
the presence of men of mark. The occasion was the meeting 
of an Ecclesiastical Council, which excited great interest in 
that community. Mr. Stimson was a delegate from a 
neighboring church. He was then a young man, full of 
point, soul and magnetism, which years have not lessened. 
Because of his brilliancy, piquancy and quaintness, all eyes 
admiringly centered upon him when he spoke. To my 
youthful mind, he was the chief attraction of the Council. 
I have ever remembered him as I saw and heard him there. 
He then told a certain story, with such inimitable skill and 
dramatic power — a story having a patness and application 
so hitting and ludicrous — that I can never forget it or its 
author. Who might this curious and strangely potent man 
be? I wondered. It came out that he was a converted stage- 
driver, of Irish descent, and the wittiest minister in the 
Genesee country. 

From that day to this I have known H. K. Stimson, and 
jfrom the time I went into the ministry he has known me, I 
think ; and if he has not loved me, I have had the sweet 
retaliation of loving him. For more than thirty years in 
Western New York, he held a prominent place as a preacher 
and pastor. No man in that region stood higher as a 



12 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

faithful, able and useful ininister of the Gospel than he. 
This is saying much, for he was associated with such 
men as.Elon Galusha, Elisha Tucker, Pharcellus Church, 
James Keed, Ichabod Clark, William Arthur, Charles 
Van Loon, Daniel Eldridge, the Elliots, Harrison Daniels and 
"Walter Brooks. In the learning of the schools, Mr. 
Stimson never professed to be a proficient, but the 
Gospel and men he knows by heart. Wit, tact, knowledge 
of human nature and ready ability to use current events, 
superadded to a great and good heart, and to a naturally 
strong and withy intellect, all consecrated to God, have 
made him a most popular, devoted and efficient minister 
of Christ for forty-five years. 

His auto-biography is a book over which readers will 
both laugh and cry. No person who has ever known this 
remarkable man will fail to be interested in the work, and in 
it thousands of others, in all Christian denominations, will 
find entertainment and profit. In wit and drollery, this 
book is keener than the works of professional humorists, in 
its serious portions and theological utterances, it is as sound 
as Jonathan Edwards; and in its touching passages and 
pictures, it is as tender as anything which Pay son or 
McChene ever wrote. 

As the subject of this taking volume is a welcome guest 
in all denominations and circles, because he is a Christian, a 
gentleman, a genial companion, a helpfal minister and a 
man of the soundest common sense, so his auto-biography 
will be welcomed by all classes, professions and ages. 
The book is the man in portraiture, and this is its highest 
commendation. Mr. Stimson is now well on in life, but is 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

as vivacious, as social, as generous and as companionable 
as ever; and the book is just like Mm. When he leaves 
your house, wife, husband and all the children say, " come 
again." A book picturilig such a character and life as his, 
so full of telling incidents, of rich personal liistory, of hits, 
of genius, of talent, of eloquence, of pathos, of piety, of 
good sense, must be remarkable, a priori. Upon examina- 
tion, the work proves itself the satisfactory fulfillment of the 
prophecy which such a character utters. 

The Editor, Kev. Mr. Greene, his neighbor in Kansas, 
where Mr. Stimson has lived for the last few years, has done 
his work so well, as to richly deserve the thanks of the 
thousands the land over who know and love the '^ Converted 
Stage-Driver," and who pray that the evening of his life may 
be as sunny as its noon ; and that, as from the stage coach 
Christ transferred him to the pulpit, so from the pulpit, 
though not for many years. He may transfer him to Himself 
in glory, not only to be forever with his Lord, but with the 
great multitude brought to Jesus by his labors. 

A. H. BURLINGHAM. 

St. Louis, January, 1874. 



FAEEWELL TO THE COACH. 



Farewell to the Coach that has carried us long 
Through sunshine and storm with wheels rolling fast; 

A kindly farewell in a brief, simple song, 
And a smile and a tear for its far away past. 

A smile for the memories pleasant and pure, 
A tear for whatever unhallowed was there; 

Let the first with all that is precious endure, 
And the last be forgotten in praise and in prayer. 

How strong was your frame and capacious each seat, 
Old Coach, as you rolled on your track every day; 

And how many good friends we then used to greet, 
As they climbed into you, and we sped on our way. 

How waited and watched for then was our load! 

How welcome the letters we bore up and downl 
How gaily our horses stepped out on the road. 

Or dashed up the street full speed into town! 

Now better enjoyment we thankfully find, 
For our last whip and bottle were cracked long ago; 

Though to crack a good joke we still feel inclined, 
And we bear other news as we go to and fro. 

Good tidings, great blessings we gladly proclaim, 
Christ's life and His death, the epistles of Paul; 

To those who will weep o'er His sorrow and shame, 
And rejoice in the news that can ransom us all. 

We still hope to carry full many a soul 
From evil to good, from sin to salvation; 

For the chariot wheels of the Gospel must roll 
Until the grand story is told to each nation. 



CHAPTEE I. 



BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 



I WAS born — so I have been told — at Saratoga 
Springs, October 11th, 1804. My parents were 
of Irish extraction, having descended from an ancient 
stock in the North of Ii*eland. All I know of their 
religious opinions is that they were of Presbyterian 
proclivities, and, like most other adherents of the 
Scotch "Kirk," strongly prejudiced against all other 
denominations, especially Roman Catholics, and no 
less, the Baptists. This prejudice my father never 
overcame. My mother finally became more tolerant, 
but it was not until the Baptists had become quite 
numerous in Western New York that any of my fam- 
ily were immersed. 

My father, who was a draper and tailor at Saratoga 
Springs, moved from there to what was then called 
the "Genesee Country," in the winter of 1811-12. 
Our family at this time consisted of my parents and 
their three children, I being seven years of age and the 
oldest of my mother's children. At this time nearly 
all west of Canandaigua was one vast wilderness, and 



18 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

I well remember the contrast between our pleasant 
home at the Springs and the rude log hut in the dense 
forest in the "town" of Mendon. With the excep- 
tion of an occasional visit to my uncle John Stimson, 
who lived four miles distant, I was constantly in the 
house Avith my mother, or with my father in the 
woods where he was '* clearing." To one thus situ- 
ated, any event which would enable him to see a com- 
pany of men gathered together, was indeed hailed 
with joy. Such an event was the first town meet- 
ing of the ''town" of Mendon, held at Deacon Eli 
Ewer's in the spring of 1812. During the pre- 
vious winter the ' ' town " of Bloomfield had been di- 
vided into four ''towns," one of which was Mendon. 
It was therefore necessary to have a ' ' town meeting " 
there, which was called at the house of Eli Ewer, a 
deacon of the Presbyterian Church. I remember 
feeling quite elated when I started with my father to 
attend the meeting. I anticipated a good time, and 
it seemed as though all there determined that my an- 
ticipations should be fulfilled. The deacon had the 
day previous obtained a license to keep a public 
house, and had laid in a good supply of rye whisky. 
He also served up to his guests a dinner consisting 
of baked pork and beans ; a dish that may have been 



BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 19 

heard of still further east. Although a plam repast, 
and iieedmg but little table furniture, his supply was 
found totally inadequate to the demand. His plates 
were of brown earthen-ware and wooden trenchers. 
For forks there were short sticks tipped with prongs 
of wire, the other part of the cutlery being supplied 
with pieces of scythe points and jack-knives. Dur- 
ing the dinner hour everything was in confusion and 
noise, but the utmost good feeling prevailed. After 
dinner, games, business and drinking occupied the 
time till sundown, when the majority started for 
home, many very much intoxicated; for men got 
drunk even in the good old times. A few of them 
were beastly drunk. The beasts will please excuse 
me. There is one consolation, however, the whisky 
they drank was pure. But pure as it was, it operated 
badly on the deacon's windows, doors and premises 
generally. It had a very dilapidating effect upon 
them. The next day Deacon Ewer gave up his li- 
cense and quit the rather expensive business of sell- 
ing whisky. 

In the spring of 1814, my father moved from his 
place in the woods to a public house on the road 
leading from Irondequoit Bay to Lima, where he 
kept tavern for the next four years. This was then 



20 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the great Western thoroughfare, Bufialo being the 
"far West." While residing here there was no 
school which I could attend, and I was compelled 
to spend my time around the bar-room, where I was 
educated to all the vice and folly attendant upon 
such a place, but making no advancement in intellect 
and certainly none in moral education. 

In the fall of 1818,1 left home and worked at 
another tavern for my board, while I attended school 
for the first time since I was a child. In the spring 
of this year I had my first religious impressiolis, and 
well do I remember the occasion. A young com- 
panion of mine. Napoleon B. Stickney, and myself, 
attended a prayer meeting, conducted by the Eev. 
John Taylor, of the Congregational Church, 
and "Deacon EH Lyon, of the Baptist Church. 
Stickney and myself, both vain and wicked youths, 
had gone there out of mere curiosity. During the 
evening. Deacon L3'on gave a short but very im- 
pressive history of his experience and conversion, 
which, for the time, made a deep impression on my 
mind. Stickney was also much afiected, and, on 
our way home, he said to me, " Hiram, I am a great 
sinner, and I feel as though it was my duty to quit 
the evil practices of Sabbath breaking, profane 



BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 21 

swearing and card playing." I at once told him of 
my own convictions, of my guilt as a sinner, and 
invited " Boney," as we called him, to stay with me 
at the tavern that night. He accepted my invitation, 
and we started for my room. The family had all 
retired, and the house was still when we reached it. 
We sat down in the bar-room where we had so often 
joked and made merry, but this time to talk over 
our deplorable condition as sinning against our God 
and Saviour. We had talked but a short time when 
" Boney" said, " Hiram, you go and get the Bible 
and we will read it." I stolS away into the room 
where I knew the Bible was kept, a useless book to 
all the family. I brought it and gave it to " Boney." 
He opened at the lifty-fifth chapter of Isaiah, and 
commenced reading. When he closed the book he 
looked at me with a strange stare and said, " Hiram, 
pray." And there we both knelt on the floor of the 
dirty bar-room, filled with the fumes of w^hisky and 
the odor of burnt tobacco, and prayed in broken 
sentences and homely expressions, but with earnest- 
ness. What I said I know not. But after rising 
we mutually promised to reform and lead a better 
life. But how vain are most of our promises of 
reformation. The very next Sabbath, Stickney and 



22 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

I went fishing all day. Thus may be seen how little 
dependence is to be placed upon resolutions of a 
better life when God is not really loved, and when 
our dependence upon Him is not realized and 
acknowledged with that acknowledgment that comes 
from renewed hearts. 

From this time till I was eighteen I worked at 
the tavern, going to school three months each winter, 
pursuing only such branches as were then taught, 
imperfectly taught, and as imperfectly received and 
applied. So that when at this age the importance of 
an education first impressed itself upon my mind 
and I received my advancement, I found I could 
only read and ^M-ite, knowing nothing or nearly 
nothing of arithmetic and geography. As I thought 
over these things, and as the value of an education 
arose before my mental vision, I was compelled to 
look about with a determination to lay hold of any 
possible chance that would allow me to pursue a 
course of study. But all was dark, dreary and dis- 
couraging. My parents were now too poor to help 
me. There were no good schools in that part of the 
country that I could attend, even by '' choring" for 
my board. And with no means nor any way of 
obtaining them to pay my expenses away from home, 



Birth and boyhood. 23 

and no kind friend to extend a benevolent hand or 
speak an encouraging word by way of relief, I 
settled down into the belief that there is such a 
thing as toiling for knowledge under difficulties, and 
that there are some lighter amusements than working 
one's way through school. With these facts dogging 
my heels, I saAv that my hopes of obtaining an edu- 
cation at that time were vain. I soon dismissed the 
idea of enjoying the advantages of attending school 
where I was, and as to going East to attend one, 
that could only be done by the sons of the wealthy. 
This, in connection with my father's somewhat 
intemperate habits, led me to the conclusion that I 
must make the best of my poor condition in life, and 
so I set myself to the work of whiling away my 
youth in ignorance and vice. 

Some time previous to this my father had given up 
the tavern and opened a small whisky grocery, ob- 
taining his stock of one S , who kept a hotel and 

store in the village of East Mendon. After continu- 
ing this grocery a little time, my father found him- 
self indebted to S , to the amount of eighty dol- 
lars, with no way to pay it. To settle the matter, 

S proposed that I should come and work it out 

at his hotel. A formal contract was at once drawn 



24 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

up, but I was to be kept iu ^uorauce of the fact that 
I was workmg to pay for a " dead horse," or, what 
was m fact much worse, for whisky long since swal- 
lowed. S came to me and said, "Hi, I want 

you to work for me a year tenduig bar, and now and 
then driving those black horses of mine, wliich I am 
fitting for market. How much do you want a month ?" 
The idea of being a kind of superintendent of a small 

tavern and of driving as fine a team as S 's blacks 

was the height of all greatness to my mind, and we 
struck a bargain at eight dollars a month. Mr. 

S soon after started for New York City, leaving 

me to take charge of the tavern, and a young man by 
the name of Brace as clerk in his store. 

My wardrobe at the time was somewhat scanty, 
and as spring came on I had need of new and more 
respectable clothing ; that is, my position as mixer 
of whisky sling, gin cocktails and brandy smashes, 
and retailer of ' ' penny grab " cigars required that I 
should appear in dignified attire. I went into the 
store and told Brace that I wanted cloth for a new 
suit of clothes, a new hat, boots, etc. What was my 
sui'prise and chagrin when he told me I was at work 
to pay the old debt of my father, and he was in- 
structed not to let me have anything out of the store 



J 



BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 25 

during Mr. S 's absence. At this I was indig- 
nant and not a little enraged, and I at once said, 
'* Well, then I shall leave ; you may take charge of 
the hotel and the horses, for I am not the boy to 
work for any old whisky debts, and go ragged while 
doinof so, into the baro^ain." I was about to leave the 
store in a rage when Brace, who by the way was a 
good friend of mine, and in deep sympathy with me, 
said, «« Well, Hiram, I will let you have what you 
want on my account. I will take the responsibility 

until Mr. S returns from New York, and then 

you and he can settle the matter." I at once replied, 
"No, I will not take a thing only on my own account 
and for my own labor. If I cannot have what I want 
on those conditions I will stay no longer, and as to 
working out that old whisky debt, it is something I 
will never do." At this decided declaration Brace 
replied, "Very well, ffi, it is too bad, and I will let 
you have what you want and you must settle it with 

Mr. S when he returns from New York City." 

Upon this condition cloth for a summer suit, cloth 
for two shirts, a pair of shoes and a hat were se- 
cured. The cloth for my suit I carried home that 
my father might cut them out, and my mother and 
sister make them. That night after going to bed my 



26 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

reflections were something like the following : * ' Now, 

when S gets home, we shall have a conflict 

about this matter. He and my father will lay their 
heads together, and compel me to work out this 
eighty dollar debt at eight dollars a month — ^ten long 
months. This is not right and just, I have no heart 
to stay and no determination to do it." 



EUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 27 



CHAPTER n. 

RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. STAGE DRIVING AND 

STAGE DRIVERS. 

/TVHOUGHTS like these soon induced me to form 
-^ plans for leaving my home, parents, brothers and 
sisters, to seek my own livelihood among strangers. 
The next morning I asked my mother to make my 
shirts as soon as possible as I was in very great need 
of them. She and my sister were not long in finishing 
them ; and as soon as they were done I tied them in 
a bundle with the rest of my new made clothes and 
started apparently for the tavern, but really I knew 
not where. I passed out of the little village unob- 
served by any one. Arriving at the road leading to 
Bushnell's Basin on the Erie canal, I turned my steps 
thitherward. 

I did not take the main road, fearing that I might 
meet some one who would detect and report me. 
As I wended my lonely way among the by-roads I 
had ample time for reflection, and my mind was 
filled with thoughts like these: << Now, I am 



28 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

taking an important step, one that will tell for good 
or evil on my whole after-life. I shall have no kind 
mother to look after me, no sweet sister to caress 
and respect me, no familiar friend to advise and 
counsel me. I am all alone, without friends or 
home, and now, after all, would I not gain by return- 
ing to Mendon, where I will be near my mother and 
sisters, and where I will see and be with those who 
are near and dear to me, even if I have to work 
almost a year to cancel that old whisky bill." Then, 
again, I thought: ''If I do return, I must be a 
poor, despised lackey in a miserable rum hole ; I 
must be an associate and companion of those belong- 
ing to the lowest grades of society ; I must work 
and thus spend a whole year of my life for nothing 
that will do me any good ; for something that has 
done no good in times past or present, and will 
benefit no one in time to come." 

With thoughts like these I arrived at the Basin, 
and took my stand upon the bridge to await the 
arrival of the next boat. I cared not much from 
which way it came, whether east or west, it mattered 
not to me. All I cared for was to go — somewhere, 
anywhere, but back to Mendon. I longed to be 
moving. I wanted to escape from the terrible dread 



RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 29 

of working out old rum bills. I hated the very 
name of liquor, and despised all connected with it. 
I was desperate, and growing more and more so 
when a boat hove in sight, and I alighted upon its 
deck, taking passage for the East at one and a half 
cents a mile, board included. After a few miles' 
ride the captain approached me and said, "Young 
man, do you wish to get emplo^Tuent ? " I said, 
" Yes, sir ;" and we soon closed a bargain, he agree- 
ing to pay me ten dollars a month as a hand upon 
the boat. As we neared Syracuse, our steward was 
taken ill, and had to leave the boat at that place. 
As we had on board a number of passengers to be 
cared for, a new steward must be found. After 
some talking and calculating, I was established in 
that office, or, as the phrase was, I was made " chief 
cook and bottle-washer." In this position I gave 
general satisfaction, so much so that Capt. Warren 
and his passengers began to praise me as a first-rate 
bar-tender and a nmnber one cook. 

After arriving at Albany and unloading om' craft 
and cleaning up oirr cabins, I strolled up into the 
business part of town, and calling at a hotel, met 
James Herrington, an old stage driver with whom 
I had been acquainted at Mendon. We were both 



30 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

taken by surprise ; and, in his rough and profane 
way — ^you don't want the profane part, and so I 
will leave it out — ^he said : '* How come you here ? " 
And then, introducing me to his companion, added : 
<'Here is Hi Stimson, one of the smartest boys I 
ever knew. He can cut more tricks and make more 
fun than any boy I ever saw. He can sing the best 
songs, dance the best hornpipes, make the best flip, 
sling or punch any of his age : and that aint all, ho 
is a tip-top reinsman, and can drive four or six 
horses to a nit's eye. Come, let's walk up and take 
a little ; the least drop in the world won't hurt you, 
if you wash it down with rum." After we had 
drunk, James took me one side and said : *' Hi, if 
you wish me to assist you in any way, I will do it. 
I think I can get you into a good berth here as a 
driver, for I know you are a first rate reinsman." I 
told him all my troubles ; how I came away from 
Mendon, and what induced me to leave home. This 
so affected him that he could not restrain his tears, 
and, taking me by the hand, he said: ''Well, 
Hiram, I will stand by you as long as I have a clean 
shirt and a shilling left." I informed him that I had 
all my wages due in the hands of Capt. Warren, and 
that I would settle with him and draw what was 



RUNNING AWAY FROM HOINIE. 31 

coming to me, if there was a prospect of employ- 
ment at higher wages. He took me to the stage 
office, where he inti-oduced me to the proprietors of 
the line, with whom I soon closed a bargain, they 
agi'eeing to pay me sixteen dollars a month, with a 
bonus of twenty-five dollars, provided I remained a 
year. I then returned to the boat, settled with the 
captain, and drew my balance. The captain was 
sorry to have me leave, but exi3ressed himself 
pleased that I had found a better paying position. 

I commenced work in my new vocation as stage 
driver the next morning. The route was the gi'eat 
road between Albany and Schenectady. Here my 

only fear was that of meeting Mr. S , who would 

probably return from New York by stage. I had 
laid James H. under obligations to keep my where- 
abouts a secret, in case he should meet any one from 
the West that knew me. 

Thus passed the summer, from May till August. 
Although I saw many whom I recognized, yet no 
one I met knew me, until one morning, about the 
first of September, as I drove up to the hotel in 
Albany. Among those who came out to take stage 
was one H. B., a young man of Mendon, who was 
well acquainted in my father's family, and whom I 



32 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

kuew to be conversant with all the facts about my 
leaving home, I having met him on my way from 
Mendon to Bushnell's Basin. I turned my face from 
him, turned up my collar and drew my hat over my 
eyes, to elude, if possible, his recognition of me. 
He stood, smoking his cigar, till almost all the 
others were in the stage, and then, turning to me, 
he said: ** Driver, can I ride on the box with 
you?" I answered, ** Yes, sir; certainly." After 
we set out from the city, he continued to ask me ques- 
tions about trifling matters, and I answered in the 
monosyllables *'yes" and *'no," until at length I 
turned my face toward him and he caught a glimpse 
of my features. With a loud expression of sur- 
prise, he exclaimed: *'0h! my , is this 

you, Hi? Your mother has cried her eyes out for 
you, and all Mendon is in wonder about what has 
become of you ; but all agree that you have served 
Mr. S. and your father just right. But it will lull 
your mother, if she does not hear from you." 

His conversation quite overcame me, and my hard 
and obdurate heart 3delded to the most filial and 
affectionate emotions, and I found relief in tears. 
I then laid B. under secrecy, he promising to say 
nothing about our meeting to any one except my 



RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 33 

mother, and only to her after she had promised not 
to reveal my whereabouts to my father or to any of 
my family. B. was as good as his word, for on 
arriving at Mendon he called at my father's, and 
taking my mother aside, and after she had promised 
secrecy, told her all about our meeting and of my 
whereabouts and circumstances. She immediately 
sat down and wrote me the following kind and 
motherly letter : 

Mendon, August 27th, 1824. 

My Dear Boy : I was made to rejoice yesterday 
as Harry Benedict informed me that 3'ou are in 
Albany. This summer has indeed been a long one 
to me and your sisters, for we have been in constant 
suspense concerning you, my dear absent boy. 
Sally and Lucinda are not as yet in the secret of 
your whereabouts, as Hariy has made me promise 
not to tell that which I have heard from you. My dear 
Hiram, I hope you will conduct yourself in a manner 
that will be creditable to yourself and your family. 
Remember you have now no mother near you to 
watch over you, no kind sisters to exert a reclaiming 
influence upon your wandering habits. Therefore, 
you must be doubly watchful over your actions and 
thoughts, that you bring not your family to shame 
and bury in grief the head of your sorrowing 
mother. * * * * * * * 



34 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Your father and Mr. S. have been in a rage of 
madness about your conduct m leaving as you did. 
Write me at Pittsford, and Harry Benedict will get 
the letter for me. 

Your affectionate mother, 

Nancy Stimson. 

I received this letter and read it with many con- 
flicting emotions, and then retired to my room, there 
to give vent to a flood of tears, such as only an ab- 
sent and erring but affectionate son who has read his 
first letter from a dear and lo^dng mother can shed. 
As I sat there alone pondering upon my condition, 
thinking of my mother, sisters and home, of all the 
pleasant hours I had spent there, 1 almost wished I 
was m the presence of my parents even at the 

expense of being at work for S tending bar ; but 

again the thought of that old whisky debt was too 
much for me, and made me resolve not to go back 
again ; and my hatred of rum and drunkenness was 
stronger and tenfold deeper-seated than ever. 

A call to duty in the coach-yard interrupted my 
reflections, but I went about my duties feeling, as I 
never had felt before, the influence, worth and con- 
stancy of a mother's love for an absent son. My 
friend James Herrington, who was at that time in the 



RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 35 

yard, observed my sad look and downcast expression, 
and stepped up to me and said in a bantering tone, 
** Well, Hi, what's the matter? Have you heard bad 
news from your sweetheart ? Is she going to jilt you, 
or what is the trouble ? " I begged him not to jeer 
me, and taking him one side showed him my mother's 
letter. He took it and perused its contents. As he 
read it I could see in his large, rough face the work- 
ings of the better man. As he finished reading, his 
eyes filled with tears, and in a half-choked voice he 
said, "God bless the old woman ! Hiram, it is a fact a 
mother is about the only true friend that we poor 
devils have. Your poor old mother will stand by 
and comfort you when everybody else forsakes 
you. That is just like a mother ; I know it from ex- 
perience." 

Feeling incompetent to write a proper reply to my 
mother's letter, I requested James to act as my 
scribe, to which request he readily consented , and in a 
short time he had finished the following letter, which 
I directed to my mother at Pittsford, care of Henry 
Benedict, who delivered it to its proper owner : 

AxBANY, Oct. 4th, 1824. 
My Dear Mother : Your kind and welcome letter 
came to hand last week, and I improve the present 



36 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

moment in writing to you a few lines. I did not 
leave Meudon because I did not love you and all the 
family, my mother and my sisters particularly. I 
love you as I love my own eyes and life, but to stay 
there and work out an old debt contracted for whisky 
for the purpose of keeping in operation a little seven 
by nine grocery, the only business of which is to fin- 
ish off a few miserable old drunkards that the hotels 
cannot afford to do at so cheap a rate, is something I 
could not do. In the second place, father and Mr. 
S. deceived me by laying a plan to compel me to 
work it out and to go ragged while I was at work, 
thus obliging me to make a fool of myself, by being 
a mere lackey for a bar-room, and a buffoon for the 
devil. 

I am now doing well and saving my wages, and 
will send you and the girls something nice when I 
get a chance. Keep it all dark about my being in 
Albany or anywhere else, and believe me 
Your affectionate son, 

Hiram K. Stimson. 

These two letters were the only communications 
that passed between my mother and myself until I 
returned home — a space of eight months. 

After this event I continued my * ' professional " 
services as stage driver and general fun-maker among 
the craft until about the middle of October, at which 



EUNNING AWAY FEOM HOME. 37 

time I was taken ill with a severe fever, being obliged 
to give up my team and keep my bed. After 
two weeks' sickness the doctor informed me that I 
was ««a very sick man," adding that if I had any 
friends they should be advised of my condition, for 
I was in some danger. Soon after he left the room, 
the hotel keeper came to me and inquired concern- 
ing my ability to pay for bemg taken care of. I sent 
for the agent of the line to come and see me. He 
and my friend James H. came in together. The 
agent told Munger, the hotel keeper, that he need 
give himself no trouble about the pa}^, as he would 
attend to all that matter. James said he would find 
a place where I could have better care than I was 
then getting at ]\Iunger's. He soon made arrange- 
ments for my removal to a private house, where I 
received the best attention and care that could be 
afibrded, considering their scanty accommodations. 
And although it was not a sister's care or a mother's 
nursing, yet it was all I could expect. James, and 
in fact all the drivers of the " old line," as it was 
called, and the wives of as many as were mamed, 
were constant m their attentions to me in my sick- 
ness. 

And here let me correct a false impression. It is 



38 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

generally supposed that stage drivers are an unfeel- 
ing, worthless class of beings. It is true many of 
them are exceedingly profane, and not a few are 
intemperate in their habits ; but, with all their rough 
and uncouth exterior, they are generous and frank 
to a fault. I have known one to pull olff his over- 
coat in a cold winter's day and give it to a sick 
passenger inside, while, at the same time, a *' broad- 
cloth gentleman " of the legal profession would not 
even give the sick man the hind seat of the coach, 
thus compelling him to ride on the middle seat, 
rather than give up an iota of his own comfort. I 
have known them to contribute their last dollar to a 
poor, unfortunate fellow-driver. The steam engine 
is fast monopolizing the place of the old stage coach. 
The engineer is now the hero of the road, and not 
the old-time stage driver. The stage coach has 
considerable country to the west of us to subdue to 
the empire of the engine ; but the time is coming 
when the last coach will make its last run, and the 
final stage driver will crack his whip and dismount 
for the last time. And having been one of the craft 
in the childhood of the stage coach in this country, 
I want to record my testimony to the noble-hearted- 
ness of the professional stage driver — a character 



RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 39 

that many young people who read this book will 
never meet. They have received the cursfes of 
many polite gentlemen ; they deserve the blessings 
of thousands. The modern omnibus driver is not 
to be put alongside of the stage driver. He is a 
denizen of the city. The stage driver is a child of 
nature. The omnibus driver knows streets and 
avenues, and is often selfish and very vicious, con- 
tracting the habits of the metropolis. The stage 
driver has a few feelings for all men, especially his 
comrades and needy people, and can drive his load 
of precious freight from one point to another, with 
no human habitation to mark the road, the darkest 
night that ever was, with all the certainty of instinct. 
Of course, the time is coming, also, when the 
balloon pilot will take the place of the close- 
mouthed, keen -eyed, steady -handed, generous- 
hearted engine driver. But, as that time will not 
fall within the evening of my day, I leave it to some 
abler pen to record the virtues of the noble army of 
engineers. But, as the stage driver, like poor 
<<Lo" — ^will the former excuse the reference? — ^is 
being driven from civilized society and his services 
dispensed with, I want to say to the palace coach 
grandee that the old historical stage driver is 
worthy of a little corner in American biography. 



40 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER m. 

RETUENING HOME FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MY 

FATHER. 

HJUT I must return to my narrative. After a 
JU stay of about two weeks at the house where 
James H. took me, the doctor informed me I had 
better take the canal boat for home, as I would be 
unable to resume my place as driver during that 
winter. I immediately made preparations for leav- 
ing, and bade an affectionate farewell to the family 
at whose hands I had received such attention and 
care. Accompanied as far as the boat by my friend 
James Herrington, I started for Mendon, over three 
hundred miles distant, where I arrived in the stage 
from Pittsford shortly after sum'ise. I was hailed 
by my mother and sisters with joy and surprise — 
joy at my return, to know that I was once more 
among them ; with surprise at my emaciated condi- 
tion, reduced as I was with a long and severe 
sickness. 

My father was not at home when I arrived, and 
my mother was fearful- of the consequences of the 



RETUENTNG HOME. 41 

meeting between us. For she knew Mr. S. had done 
all in his power to enrage my father against me for 
leaving him in the manner I did. I sent for Jere- 
miah S. Stone, an old friend of mine from boyhood, 
who kept a hotel and store just opposite the estab- 
lishment of Mr. S. He advised me what to do, as- 
suring me that I should be protected at all hazards. 

While on my way home I had sewed my money, 
amounting to some sixty dollars, into my vest lining, 
to keep it away from my father and his whisky cred- 
itor. This money I now concluded to deposit with 
Stone for safe-keeping. 

The day wore away. My father returned in the 
evening. I was in bed when he came in ; but one 
of my little brothers said, " Father, Hiram's got 
home." He made little or no reply. I got up and 
came down stairs. As I entered the room he arose 
and gazing at me exclaimed, ' ' What in the devil is 
the matter with you? You look like a ghost." I 
replied that I had been sick. " Sick ha ! you have 
been to sea I suppose. What's the news in Europe ? " 
** Nothing of importance," I replied, *' except that 
the Dutch have taken Holland." At this he set up 
a hearty laugh, and thus ended the matter for the 
present. 



42 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

In a little time I was able to walk about, and went 
over to Stone's hotel, being made welcome to con- 
sider it my home until I was able to go to work 
again, which invitation I accepted. One day shortly 
after this, as I was passing along in front of Mr. S.'s 
premises, he standing in the door hailed me in some- 
thing like the following language : ' ' That's the run- 
away. Walk up here and let us see how you look." 
As I stopped at the platform, one HoUister, an old 
man, took me by the hand to help me up the steps 
and offered me a chair ; but Mr. S. exclaimed, ' 'No" — 
with an oath — *'he shan't sit here. I have called 
him up here to horsewhip him." And suiting the 
action to the word, reaching his hand towards the 
post, he took up a large black whip and came towards 
me in a rage. Hollister interposed, saying: Mr. S., 
you shan't strike a sick boy ; if you do I'll make a 
corpse of you in two minutes ; I'll make your wife a 
widow and your children orphans before sundown." 

When my father heard of the manner in which S. 
had attempted to horsewhip me, he was very much 
enraged; so much so that he went over to see S., 
saying to him, among other things more forcible than 
elegant, *' K you had struck the boy, I would have 
made Irish hash of you and fed you out to the devil's 



RBTUENING HOME. 43 

boarders for breakfast this morning." This caused 
a breach between Mr. S. and my father, which in a 
measure worked a reconciliation between my father 
and myself. 

I remained with the Stone family during the bal- 
ance of that winter, doing such chores about the hotel 
as my delicate health would permit. 

My father had found out that I had on deposit with 
Stone the sixty dollars I had left with him the fall I 
came home from Albany, and was about to make a 
demand for it, when we compromised the matter by 
a contract as follows : I was to give him sixty dollars 
a year for my time until I was of age, paying thirty 
dollars in advance, and thirty dollars every six 
months, Mr. Stone being security for me. 

Early in the spring, I engaged with Orrie Adams, 
of Rochester, to drive stage between that place and 
Avon, commencing work during the month of March. 
During the next July I was changed to the route 
from Rochester to Bergen, on the Buffalo road. I 
continued on this route for two years and a half, and 
during this time I became acquainted with a large 
circle of young friends who were much given to frol- 
icking and dancing, the latter a recreation to which 
I was much attached from childhood. 



44 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

During this time I induced my old and tried friend, 
James Herrington, to come on from Albany to West- 
ern New York, as an increase of the business in the 
West made a demand for drivers. In him I always 
found a true man ; vnth. all his rough exterior he was 
one of "nature's noblemen." 

I will here introduce an incident that occurred thir- 
teen years later. In 1837, while I was pastor at 
Bethany, in Genesee County, I took a journey to 
Michigan. On my return to Buffalo I took the stage 
for Batavia, the country being innocent of railroads. 
Coming out of the hotel, I saw upon the box of the 
stage, my old friend James Herrington. He had 
changed, but I knew him. I resolved at once to get 
the liberty of a seat on the box with him. So I said 
to him in as polite a way as I could, "Well, captam, 
can I ride with you on the box this fine morning?" 
He replied, "I am no captain, nor corporal, but you 
are welcome to a seat with me, as no other one has 
spoken for it." So up I climbed, and away we went 
out of the city. 

I made every effort for him to recognize me, with- 
out telling him who I was. I asked him a multitude 
of small questions about driving, if it was not a hard 
life, exposed to sun and storms, what wages he got, 



RETURNING HOME. 45 

etc., etc. To all of which he gave prompt and civil 
answers. 

As he stopped at Williamsville, ten miles out of 
Buffalo, to change the mails and water the horses, I 
volunteered to hold the reins. ** Think ye can hold 
'em ? You look a little too white-livered to manage 
these old snorters; but you may try yer hand at it, 
stranger." So I took the reins, and while he was 
watering he looked up and saw that I had adjusted 
the ' ' ribbons" according to the rules of the ' ' knights 
of the order of Jehu." As he got up on the box he 
remarked, *'Well, I think you have handled four 
* ribbons' before to-day, hain't ye?" and looked me 
full in the face. I smiled and returned the look. 
He exclaimed with solemnity, and not in a spirit of 
profanity, «* My God ! if this ain't you. Hi. Stimson." 
At once the tears stole down from his large eyes, 
over his rough, brown cheeks, as he caught me by 
the hand, and after a moment's convulsion said, 
'* Well, well, if this don't beat all, that I should ride 
all the way from Buffalo with you and not know Hi- 
ram Stimson. How glad I am to see you ! Now, tell 
me about yourself, and is your old mother living yet ? 
I have heard of you a number of times in all these 
years, and could hardly beKeve the yarns told about 



46 FEOM THE STAGE GOACH TO THE PULPIT. 

you, that you had become a Christian and a minister 
and was much respected, and looked up to. Well, 
well, if this ain't as strange as a dream I How do ye 
s'pose I came to know ye ? It's just this : as I stood 
there watering my team, and saw you holding them 
* ribbons' something seemed to crawl into my head, 
' I have seen him somewhere ;' and then when you 
smiled I knew you, because you always laughed out 
of the corners of your eyes. Well, Hiram, we must 
talk fast, for its near the end of my road." I told 
him all : how the Lord had led me to see myself as 
a sinner, and to embrace Jesus as my only hope of 
salvation from sin, from intemperance, and a drunk- 
ard's undone eternity. And we parted with a prom- 
ise and a hope to meet again. 

James Herrington after this became a humble and 
useful Christian, the deacon of a Freewill Baptist 
church in the city of Buffalo, and died respected and 
beloved by all that knew him. The reader will for- 
give this episode. I must return to my narrative of 
thirteen years previous 

At my boarding house in Bergen I became ac- 
quainted with a young friend, James Davis. He had 
been apprenticed to the wagon-making business in 
the shop of Mr. Carver. James and myself lodged 



RETUKNING HOME. 47 

together at Biiel's hotel, and at iiight he would tell 
over to me all his troubles, Avhich were simply these : 
His mother was a pious Baptist lady, as was also his 
sister Sally. His oldest brothers, Lymau and George, 
were also members of the Baptist Church. His fam- 
ily were opposed to his attending places of amuse- 
ment, and dancing, and these being the order of 
the day in Bergen, it was almost impossible to re- 
strain him. He soon became restive and dissatisfied 
with his place and occupation, and decided to leave 
home and seek his fortune among strangers. 

I in turn gave him a history of my adventures on 
leaving home. And I have reason to think that it 
was mostly through my influence that he was in- 
duced to leave home. Hence, how true it is that 
*' one sinner destroy eth much good." He obtained 
permission from Carver to spend a week at home with 
his mother, but instead of going home he started for 
Troy, in the eastern part of the State, where he had 
wealthy relatives, I being the only one cognizant of 
his real destination. Thus he had a fair start, his 
mother supposing him to be in the shop at Bergen 
Corners, and Mr. Carver supposing him to be with 
his mother. When they discovered that he was 
gone, his mother came to me and said, by way of in- 



48 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

troducing the conversation, '< Young man, have you 
a mother?" To which I replied in the affirmative. 
'* Well, if you had left your mother and home and 
gone — ^whero she knew not — and a friend in the 
neighborhood did know, would it not be a mercy to 
your mother for that friend to inform her of your 
whereabouts?" This appeal to my feehngs quite 
overpowered me, and with choked utterance and 
tearful eyes I answer (?d, "I will tell you all about 
your son. He is in Troy and here is a letter from 
him," at the same time handing her one which I had 
just received. The good old woman took it and 
said, "God bless you for this relief to my afflicted 
heart ! The death of my husband was indeed a sad 
bereavement, but the wandering of my dear James 
and the suspense I have been in to hear from him is 
taking my life by inches I " I then as I never had 
before, realized the pain and anguish I had given 
my own dear mother in leaving home as I did some 
two years before. Although I had some show of rea- 
son for doing so at the time, I now felt that I was 
guilty of a great outrage upon parental affection and 
a mother's care. As I shall have occasion to allude 
to this subject again, I will now dismiss it and pro- 
ceed with my narrative. 



RETURNING HOME. 49 

I continued on in my wild and reckless career, at 
times keeping the whole community in a state of 
excitement about some practical joke. For instance, 
while at Kochester, on one of my trips, there came 
a young man into the *' Eagle Hotel," of a pompous 
and boastful bearing, telling about his money and 
his ability to carry on business. He said he wanted 
to purchase a good mill site for manufacturing flour. 
I saw at once that he was a '* greenhorn." So I 
entered into conversation with him, telling him of a 
grand mill privilege at Bergen, near the village, 
where, with a moderate dam, a twenty-foot fall could 
b6 obtamed. He made inquiries about wheat, the 
probability of the owner selling the property, etc., 
to all of which I of course answered favorably. The 
next morning he paid his fare to Bergen, treating 
his new friend the ' * driver " at every stopping 
place. We arrived at Bergen about noon, and as 
soon as he had swallowed his dinner, oflT we started 
for the proposed mill site. Just west of Bergen is 
a deep gully, with banks twenty or thirty feet high. 
As we approached the spot, I began discussing the 
best place for the dam and the position for the mill. 
By this time we were at the top of the steep bank, 
when the speculator turned, and, looking me full in 



50 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the face, said : *' Well, but look here, driver ^ there 

is not a drop of water in the whole concern." 

To which I answered, in deep sympathy : <* Well, 
that is a pity ; but I can't help it." This dry joke 
cured the young fellow of Bergen and its water 
power. He returned forthwith to Rochester, not to 
hear the last of his Bergen speculation for many a 
day. 

During all these exhibitions of youthful blood, I 
was not without a deep and pungent sense of my 
lost condition as a sinner against God, and most 
cons-cious that I was fast hasterdng my soul to an 
utter state of ruin. And at times I would go alone 
into the forest, and sit down and weep myself sick 
over my profanity and Sabbath-breaking and the 
premonitory symptoms of disease from my habits of 
intemperance, which, if continued in, would, I 
knew, result in my ruin for time and eternity, only 
to return again to the hotel, or some circle of vain 
and frivolous associates, and enter with more zeal 
and apparent thoughtlessness upon my career of 
sin. My pride and sense of propriety in the com- 
pany of ladies exercised a restraint upon me, keeping 
me from appearing outlandish and vulgar in their 
presence. In fact, this was about my only passport 



RETURNING HOME. 51 

to respectable society, and constituted an my capital 
as a decent sinner. And yet I would, when out of 
such restraining society, reduce myself to a common 
blackguard and billingsgate rough. 

From early childhood I had a strong prejudice 
against people of color. I believe the Irish gene- 
rally are not very fond of their African relatives. 
On one occasion, as I came up to the door of the 
*' Eagle Hotel," to start on my drive to Bergen, the 
only passenger to take the stage was a large, fleshy 
colored woman, about forty-five years of age. 
Colored dames of that age have a habit of becoming 
fleshy very frequently. With her large bundle — 
they often carry large bundles also — she seated 
herself in the coach. As Mr. Blinn handed me the 
way-bill, he said, in an undertone and with a mis- 
chievous look, "I hope, Hiram, you will not get 
love-smitten with this fair lady and come back a 
married man." At which all the bystanders raised a 
hearty laugh, and I cracked my whip and bounded 
up Buffalo street at full speed. At each stopping 
place my passenger and I were the. objects of some 
laughing joke. It was much funnier to laugh at 
colored people then than now. Why? When I 
got to Riga Corners, within four miles of the end of 



52 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

my road, while the postmaster was changing the 
mail, I buttoned down all the cm-tains of the coach 
and lit my lamps, though it was about noon, and 
drove on to the vicinity of Bergen, when I held up 
into a slow funeral walk, blowing my stage horn 
with a plaintive-toning sound, so that it attracted all 
the village. Taking a long circuitous turn up to 
the hotel door, everybody came gazing with wonder 
at my lighted lamps, closed curtains and slow, 
funeral gait. As I halted, ]Mr. Buell stepped up, as 
he was accustomed to, and opened the coach door, 
when out sprung her ladyship, as though she would 
enjoy a breath of fresh air. As she passed in with 
Mr. B. to the dining hall, a boisterous laugh followed. 
It so happened that I was acquainted with this 
woman, and knew her to be a pious, respectable 
Methodist member. As I lay down at night, this 
indignity to the simple-hearted, innocent old woman 
haunted me. All effort to sleep was vain. She 
was black and I was white. She was a good Chris- 
tian, a child of God ; I was a sinner, a child of the 
devil. She was. despised by some low characters on 
account of her color, but honored of God as one 
redeemed by Jesus. I was despised, I thought, by 
all good beings, and loved by none. If ever any 



RETURNING HOME. 53 

poor wretch was in torment, present and in anticipa- 
tion, I was the most of that long night. 

But how soon do all such superficial emotions 
evaporate in mere momentary regrets, and leave the 
blinded and hardened to return to their accustomed 
folly and vicious pursuits ! On I went, involving my- 
self in sin more and more, and as I look back upon 
this dreary and dark pathway of my youth, I wonder 
at the long-suffering of God in sparing me, a reckless 
sinner indeed. 



54 TKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTEK IV. 

COUIITSHIP AND MARRIAGE. EARLY MARRIED LIFE. 

L\) MONGr the many youth of Bergen who congre- 
■-^-^gated for the purpose of dancing and other 
amusements, was Miss Almedia Gifford, with whom I 
had become acquainted. She was exceeding fond of 
dancing. She was a great singer, and seemed to be 
in her element when in the associations of her young 
companions. At all public parties she was first on 
the floor to lead the dance, and the last to leave the 
room. Between Miss Gr. and myself there was a 
growing intimacy ; that is, on all or nearly all these 
occasions I waited on her, until the common gossip 
of the place among the knowing ones was, that an 
engagement was entered into. Some said one thing 
and some another. Some expressed regrets that Al- 
media should throw herself away on such a reckless, 
rattleheaded fellow as Hi Stimson. But during all 
this tittle-tattle of the gossip-makers, not a word or 
intimation had been exchanged between us about any 



COUKTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 55 

permanent relations of after life. But the thing was 
a fixed fact in the judgment of these all wise persons. 
So much so that some of her near relatives said, **I 
had rather see her dressed for her grave than for 
the bridal chamber." All this coming to our ears 
had a slight tendency to irritate us, and so I left that 
place and went to Palmyra for a short time, our stage 
route now being from Rochester to Palmyra. Things 
passed on till all was quiet at Bergen, but not so 
quiet about the regions of certain hearts. 

On the 11th of October, 1825, my twenty-first 
bu-th-day, I sat down in a by-place and soon found 
myself in a reflecting mood. My thoughts took a 
direction something like this : " I am now twenty- 
one years of age. If I am ever to reform in my hab- 
its, now is my time. The past has only revealed the 
fact that I am growing worse and worse. I am pro- 
fane ; habits of intemperance are getting a fast hold 
upon me ; a large share of my companions are not the 
most desirable in their conduct and character. What 
the friends say in Bergen is too true. I am confident 
though, that I possess the ability to be a man and a 
gentleman." And I then and there resolved to go 
back to Bergen and conduct myself with a little more 
reserve and propriety. So when I got into Roches- 



5Q FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

ter, I effected an exchange with a young brother of 
mine who had now become the driver to Bergen. 
The same day that I returned to Bergen was Thanks- 
giviQg day, and the youth of the place were cele- 
brating it with a ball. Strange as it may appear, this 
was our understanding of gratitude to the Giver of 
all good, and our expression of it was by dancing. 

Here I met again ]Miss Gifford, and soon improved 
an opj)ortunity to have a little close conversation 
with her about the matter of om* previous intimacy, 
and the common talk that had been going the rounds. 
She frankly informed me that much had been said to 
her about me, and her friends had prohibited her 
associating with me. I then suggested an interview 
to which she consented, and a time was appointed, at 
which time we negotiated the matter, and on the 
11th of January, 1827, we were united in marriage 
at Bergen. 

In the autumn and winter previous to oui' marriage, 
there was in the Presb}i:erian Church at Bergen, a 
considerable religious awakening. I believe not many 
conversions were the result, but the church was much 
improved in its religious condition, and among^ those 
who were affected by Divine influence, was a young 
man by the name of Harry Everett. One evening I 



COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 57 

attended their social meeting ; and this young man 
arose, and in a very feeling manner addi-essed himself 
to the youth present. I returned from that meeting 
to my boarding place with deep and pungent convic- 
tions. I realized myself a sinner against God ; and 
now believe if some Christian friend had just com- 
menced a course of conversation and instruction and 
prayer with me, it would have saved me at least a 
long and severe career of open rebellion against God's 
truth. I was made sensible of the depravity of m}^ 
nature, and how utterly vain it was for me to hope 
for reform while I was without a good hope in Christ, 
and my heart unrenewed by the Spirit of God. So 
I again procrastinated the all-important matter of my 
soul, to what I considered a convenient season, which 
never came. I still persisted in my course of sin, 
with but little restramt, all the while groAving harder 
in heart, and more confirmed in my bad habits. 

In my connection for life with the woman of my 
choice, I had a most congenial spirit as a lover of 
mirth and amusement, but differing from me in this 
particular : She detested anything like vulgarity 
and profanity, and utterly detested all habits of 
intemperance. Poor girl ! she little knew then that 
the very man she had forsaken all for was hastening, 



58 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

with rapid strides, to a full and complete inebriate, 
and in a few years, if left to go on, would fill a 
drunkard's grave and a drunkard's undone eternity. 
The fact is, I was already a confirmed drunkard, in 
all the essential particulars. True, I did not get so 
intoxicated as to stagger on the streets, or to fall 
into the gutter. But I was under the power of a 
confirmed and unrelenting habit of the constant use 
of strong drink, though often disguised. During 
the first two years of our marriage, she had the 
worst evidence that her fate was that of a drunkard's 
wife. 

She possessed two important elements of character, 
viz : kindness of heart and resolution of purpose. 
When she saw the sad evidences of her husband's 
ruin, she manifested the spmt of an angel in manner 
and in conversation. Yes, I have still in vivid 
remembrance her benignant look, as she spoke to 
me about my wayward course. Her resolution to 
endure all the privation and grief, growing out of 
her connection with the fallen and prospectively 
ruined companion of her youth, who, day by day, 
was perfecting himself for unutterable shame and 
sorrow, was worthy of a saint. 

As an illustration of the desperation and rapidity 



COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 59 

of my ruin, I will sketch to the reader the following : 
Soon after the birth of our first child, I removed to 
Mendon, the place of my early childhood and where 
I had experienced, only a few years previous, such 

a conflict with my father and Mr. S , as to induce 

me to leave my home and the care and counsel of 
my mother. I came back to Mendon with the osten- 
sible purpose of carrying on the cabinet business. 
Here I found a large group of young men w ho had 
been raised up with me in childhood, now matured 
into vigorous manhood ; and many of them had 
made fearful advance in habits and practices of vice, 
especially intemperance. As a matter of com-se, we 
were congenial spii'its ; and "bii'dsof a feather" will 
"flock together." Every leism*e hour was spent in 
some place of amusement, at card playing or dancing, 
or, what was still more degi-ading, drinking and 
carousing. 

It so happened during this summer, 1828, that 
the scarlet fever prevailed in the community to an 
alarming and fatal extent in many families. A large 
share of my time was occupied in my shop, making 
coffins for the dead ; and soon my own family was 
visited with this terrible scourge. Our little boy, 
then eight or ten months old, was stricken. My 



60 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

wife was assisted by my kind-hearted mother and 
sister in caring for the sick infant, while I was occu- 
pied in my shop as stated, preparing those last 
conveniences for the dead. I came in one evening 
from my workshop and found my child in no better 
condition, and with the sad evidence that but little 
hope could be relied on of its recovery. My wife 
had so long applied her energies by night and day 
in a mother's care and love for her suffering babe, 
that I saw she was unwell and nearly exhausted. I 
said, " Almedia, I will step over to the hotel a few 
minutes, and then I will sit up a part of the night, 
while you get rest." So out I went, and soon fell 
into the company of my companions, who suggested 
a drink and short hand ^t " Loo." I consented, and 
down we sat at the gambler's table. The excitement 
of the game and the fumes of the liquor soon 
effaced from my mind my obligation to my weary 
wife and sick and suffering child. And so the 
whole night I remained away, or until one of the 
comrades said : " Boys, it's time to quit ; it's plump 
three." I started from the place with amazement, 
and, with a hurried pace, arrived at my house, 
where a dim light was burning. And then fell upon 
my mind, like a thunder-burst, my neglect of wife, 



COUETSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 61 

of my sick child, and my own debased condition. 
As I looked through the window, and there saw my 
pale and weary Almedia swinging the fan over her 
babe, that was scorched and writhing with a burning 
fever, oh ! what a mountain-load of guilt and self- 
reproach crushed my conscience ! I was half inclined 
to go and conceal myself in some unknown place ; 
but I advanced to the door and silently turned the 
latch ; but it was fast. I then went to the back door, 
but that was fast also. I then knocked for admit- 
tance. She came softly and opened the door. As 
I came into the room, I said : " How is the child? " 
She replied, with a stifled voice, " No better." 
There was a solemn pause. I said, "Almedia, 
come, you go and lie down, and I will take care of 
him until daylight." To which she replied, " Hiram, 
you are in no condition to take care of this dying 
child. You are not able to take care of yourself. 
You are under the influence of liquor. It does 
seem to me, if you loved your wife and child as a 
husband and father should, you would not have 
remained away till this late hour. Come, go and 
lie down, and when you are yourself I will talk 
with you about it." Oh ! if a thousand thunders 
had uttered their voices of condemnation and death, 



62 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

they would not have struck greater consternation to 
my withering soul ! I felt my way up stairs and 
there lay me down, but not to sleep, not to rest. 
And as the dawn of day and a bright August sun 
came into the east window, as I was recovering from 
the effect of my intoxication, all seemed to join 
with the admonition of Almedia and the groans of 
my suffering babe, to say : " Wretch ! wretch ! 
wretch ! You are, indeed. You are now only fitted 
for ruin. How can you ever look your kind-hearted 
wife in the face again ? Is this fulfilling the solemn 
vow you made to her when, against the advice of 
friends, she gave you her hand and heart, and who 
has done all in her power to make you and your 
home happy? Is this the example you are setting 
before your child, if God should spare its life?" 
It was a number of days before I fully recovered 
from the dreadful sense of my outrage upon the 
relationships of our home life. 

In my temptation to engage in drinking and card 
playing, while my child was so near death and my 
dear wife so nearly exhausted, I now recognize most 
clearly the influence of a personal devil. My utter 
neglect and forgetfulness caimot be accounted for 
even by drinking and the excitements of gaming alone. 



COUETSHIP AND MAERIAGE. 63 

I believe the devil had possession of me, and oblite- 
rated for the time, home and wife and child. Young 
man, you had better keep clear of the devil's church, 
the drinking and gaming room. He always is on 
hand where his disciples congregate. To keep out of 
his clutches you'd better keep out of his places of 
meeting with the children of men. If Satan comes 
also when the sons of God meet together, you may 
be sure be does so when the sons of Belial come to- 
gether. 

One of the principal means that facilitated my deg- 
radation on this occasion, was a barrel of cider brandy 
that my partner in business and myself had bought, 
and kept on tap in the shop. You may be sure we 
had plenty of company while the brandy lasted, and 
we were expected to drink with each one who called 
for the brandy's sake. This wholesale provision for 
drinking, in connection with the horrible night's 
debauch and gambling, led to a little sober reflection, 
which resulted in a secret resolution to stop drinking 
for the short period of four days. 1 made the reso- 
lution during the night, went into the shop in the 
morning, and worked until breakfast was ready, and 
drank nothing. Then felt a strange want of some- 
thing, but could eat no breakfast. So by the time 



64 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the fourth day came, I was all lassitude, and gene- 
rally wanting in energy. I had kept my secret pledge 
all of four days, and then returned again to old habits, 
but with a deep, penetrating conviction : "This you 
ought to have continued. It is your only hope of 
salvation from all the dreadful consequences of in- 
temperance." 



A TURNING POINT, 65 



CHAPTER V. 

A TURNING POINT — VICTORY OVER WHISKY — ^A 
SHOOTING MATCH ETC. 

MATTERS thus passed on until Christmas, 1828. 
There was to be a shooting match in the village 
that day. As I awoke in the morning these thoughts 
were suggested to my mind : "Now it's Christmas, and 
I shall go out with my associates to-day, to join in the 
sports and dissipations of the holiday. The result 
will be, I shall add another pang to my distracted 
and aching heart. I made one half-hearted effort to 
abstain from drink ; it failed for the want of deter- 
mined, uncompromising resolution, a will to conquer 
or die, I have fallen into the same sin and shame 
that I have abhorred in others. Here I have a beau- 
tiful and kind-hearted wife ; I have a child that Heaven 
has spared to us, while others have been taken all 
around us . My dear mother and sisters are yet spared 
to me, but I fear only to be brought to anguish and 
shame by my reckless conduct. And now before I get 
up, I must decide this all-imp ortant question. And I 



66 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

WILL. I WILL NOT DRINK NOR TASTE OF IT. I WILL 
NOT GIVE IT TO OTHERS, OR PROCURE IT FOR THEM." 

This was at four o'clock on the morning of Christmas. 
It was an awful moment. I arose and went about 
my morning duties, and at the time of the gathering 
at the shooting-match grounds, I put in my appear- 
ance. 

My first shot drew a turkey. And as the custom 
was on such occasions, the successful one was 
expected to bring out his bottle ; and so a number 
cried out, "Come, Hiram, bring on your * clear- 
ance,'" as was the phrase. But I said, "No. If 
you don't get anything to drink until you get it from 
me, you will never drink." Then I made my second 
shot, and drew another turkey. At this they were 
more clamorous than before, and one cried out, 
" There are cobwebs in our throats ! " I replied, 
" If they are not washed out except by liquor that I 
buy, young spiders will hatch out by hundreds." 

It was enough. My companions knew by the look 
of my eye and tone of my voice, that I was not to 
be trifled with. 



a turning point. 67 

editor's remarks. 

[When a man steps out of his former self, and turns 
the scale m which his past life is in one balance and 
his future life in the other, there is something about 
him that forbids vulgar familiarity. Such a passage 
in life is of too supreme importance to leave its hero 
at the sport of common-going souls. They at once 
shrink back. They do not comprehend the solemnity 
of the situation, nor the new — new to them — mani- 
festation of human nature. For it is within the 
compass of our strange organism to change the whole 
bent and issue of our lives in a moment. Those who 
think that moral changes in man must be wrought 
slowly like the changes in man's physical nature, 
have never thoroughly comprehended the problem 
of human life. All souls are not capable of the 
sudden transition from a state of aimlessness to one 
of unswerving purpose ; from a state of servitude to 
any vice, or habit not commonly called vicious but 
destructive of true development, to a condition of 
victorious self-reliance, and of course they are inca- 
pable of comprehending the idea. But a live man, 
whose instincts are keen, whose glance can compre- 
hend a complicated situation, and whose resolution 
shrinks from no hazard and no mountain weight of 
effort, can in a moment's time become a totally dif- 
ferent man from what he was, even mentally. It is 
not one in a thousand who has the courage to grasp 
this reversing lever and pull it down at a stroke, 
even with the bright prospect of a total change for 
the better immediately before him. The latent 
ability is lodged in many, perhaps all men, but prac- 
tically it is used by the very few. But this does not 
invalidate the truth that men — some men — can in a 



68 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

pulse-beat, forever bid adieu to the character they 
have been years in slowly building up, and as sud- 
denly begin a career on a different plan and accord- 
ing to different principles, resulting in the growth of 
a character as different from the former one as Jacob 
was different from Esau, as Abel was from Cain. 
Here is a man of passionate nature, cultivated by 
years of indulgence, and worse, inherited. His 
speech continually betrays him. He has the most 
intense loves and hatreds, the latter not entirely free 
from prejudice. And yet he has no patience with 
prejudice. His soul abhors mush and milk men. 
He has no patience with living antediluvians. He 
thinks the only place they are entitled to is in the 
ground. Contact with them, or more properly, 
against them, stirs his whole vehement nature, his 
tongue included. He has no thoughts, feelings or 
words of excuse for their last century modes. If it 
wasn't wrong, he would banish the whole tribe to 
some island, or perpetual " sleepy hollow," or more 
likely to the gi'ound. This man stops. Some one 
in whom he has unbounded confidence may stop him. 
He says, "I see this fiery temper and tongue are the 
bane of my life. I could augment my influence five- 
fold were I to part company with them for good." 
The resolution is formed. The will has reversed 
the whole mechanism of the man. Henceforth he 
is patient. He can think out an apology for old 
fogyism, if need be, or for sly, plausible devils, 
under some circumstances. He can associate with 
those whose ideas in many respects are antagonistic 
to his oT^n, and yet not chafe himself. He can speak 
peaceably to and of those who stand on the other 
side of a great dividing line. He is as impetuous 



A TXJENING POINT. 69 

against wrong as ever, but he is tolerant of slow- 
ness and feebleness. He burns against intelligent, 
deliberate ^vrong-doing as hotly as ever. But 
towards those who are to be pitied rather than 
blamed, even if their presence is oppressive, he has 
forgiveness and tolerance of heart and tongue. He 
is a self-controlled, care-taking man. He is a new 
man. His life is keyed on a different note. The 
course and issue of his existence are totally different. 
What is true in this respect holds good when it comes 
to the conquering of a dominant habit that has gath- 
ered to itself all the power of the will. The "awful 
moment," as Father Stimson calls it, comes when 
the man may liberate himself. The will summons 
its energies and offers itself as champion of the 
enfeebled nature, before making a final surrender of 
itself. . The issue is met and passed in a moment. 
The die is cast, and the man goes forth, forever con- 
firmed in his slavery to the habit, or forever free 
from it. In such a struggle, brief as it is fierce, one 
wants no aid from friends. He must be alone. It 
is purely a self-conquest. It is an " awful moment." 
And why is it that men will admit this marvelous 
capability of human nature over itself, and yet 
stagger at the truth of Eevelation, that the eternal 
God can suddenl}^ change the currents of a man's 
moral nature ; can in a moment conquer the opposi- 
tion of his selfish will ? K we admit the miracle as 
within the scope of man's own power, why deny a 
similar though greater miracle, perhaps, as within 
the compass of Divine power ? And as to its fact, 
there are personal, experimental proofs of it in every 
community. — Ed. 



70 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

On the evening of the day of the shootmg-match, 
we all repaired to the hotel to raffle for the turkeys 
and other prizes, among which was a fat beef, just 
slaughtered. As the evening passed, strong efforts 
were made to induce me to drink or treat, as I was 
considered a lucky man in shooting and raffling, and 
I now had, in addition to turkeys, etc., a hind 
quarter of the beef. But I refused as persistentl}'- 
as I had in the day time. Then a friend, who had 
observed the conversation and who was acquainted 
with me from a child, knowing all my reckless 
habits, spoke up: "Boys, Hi is right; I have a 
mind to see how many will join in 'kegging' up for 
a month? All that will, step this way, and I will 
take your names ; and a month from to-night all 
meet at my house, to talk over the matter and see 
how we can stand it." Twelve put their names to a 
simple pledge not to drink for thirty days, at the 
end of which time we were to meet at the residence 
of Gen. Cady, a man of wealth and highly respected, 
though he had long carried on the distilling business 
in that town. This was the first temperance effort 
in East Mendon. 

At the expiration of the thirty days we met at 
the General's house. The community had in the 



A TURNING POINT. 71 

meantime become not a little excited on what they 
called the "cold water question." That unhistorical, 
but not altogether uninteresting group, is worthy of 
a moment's scrutiny. There were old men who 
had " followed strong drink " from childhood — blear- 
eyed and red-nosed. There was the temperate 
drinker, expressing his opinion that "a little was for 
health." There were the young men and youth of 
the place, looking on curiously to see what would 
be the upshot of the "cold water movement." One 
man said he put his name down on Christmas and 
had kept his pledge until that last day, but would 
not suffer again as he had during the month for the 
best farm in Mendon ; and he had stoj)ped on his 
way there and improved his liberty by taking a 
drink. He felt better. This man died a drunkard 
in Mendon. I was called upon to express my 
views. I said I had been in a commingled state of 
mind and feeling during the last thirty days. The 
first ten days, everything went like dragging a cat 
by the tail, hard pulling, with much squalling. But 
for the last twenty days everything was changed for 
the better. Wife was better ; little boy was better ; 
neighbors were all changed for the better ; and the 
world seemed to be made on purpose to make me 



72 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIl. 

and everybody else happy. I knew of but one 
thing as a drawback to keep us from all being 
happy — ^the devil in the shape of whisky. Forty 
more added their names that evening, some for 
a month, others for a year. Ethan Allen, a 
young man about my own age, joined for ^'ninety- 
nine years." I was not to be outdone by him, and 
put my name down for one hundred. 

This move was the foundation of subsequent events 
not looked for by me, or remotely anticipated by 
others. My attention was soon arrested by an un- 
common concern of spirit about myself as a sinner in 
the sight of God. My mind was never before so 
directed to the great fact. It followed me by day and 
night. I resorted to every expedient to dissipate 
these unwelcome and melancholy impressions. I had 
no inclination to attend the meetings in the commu- 
nity, and still I felt a kind of compelling power to 
attend, that I could not resist. I assumed the office 
of critic, making remarks about Chi'istians and their 
manner of prayuig, speaking and singuig. Some- 
times I would attend the Baptist meetmg, and then 
pretend that I was disgusted with their order of con- 
ducting worship ; and especially disgusted with Eev. 
E. Weaver, the pastor of that church. 



A TURNmG POINT. 73 

I would mimic him, by getting a crowd together 
and haranguing them in a mocking manner, and by 
paraphrasing the hymns sung at the Baptist meeting. 
Thus I went on from bad to worse, until one Sunday 
I went to hear Mr. Weaver, when his text was "Who 
for a morsel of meat, sold his birthright." (Hob., 
xii. 16.) The very announcement of the text meant 
me ; all the illustrations meant me ; and when he 
made the application, I was quite positive that he 
meant to insult me, and that some one had told him 
all about me, and my conduct was all known to him. 
I went out of the house quite in a rage, and expressed 
to one of the members my hatred of the man that 
would single me out before a large congregation, in 
the way he had that morning. The friend replied 
that he presumed that Mr. Weaver knew nothing 
about me and that no one had told him a lisp about 
me. The same friend came tome in a few days and 
said : "I spoke to the Elder about that sermon, and 
he says he did not know you were in the congrega- 
tion, and had no knowledge of you, only that j^ou 
were like other young men in the village, ^ a common 
sinner on the devil's common.' " 

All this while my distress of mind continued, and 
every shift I made for relief only increased my horror 



74 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

of soul, until at last this thought impressed me, that 
I had committed the unpardonable sin, and I had 
now better give myself up to sin and the enjoyment 
of life the best I could; I had gone beyond all 
reasonable expectation of deliverance from sin. The 
Spirit's influences had left me forever, and I was just 
as much damned as if I was already in hell ; and if I 
would only go back to my cups and old associates 
again, I might enjoy life for a while at least. But 
damned I must be, damned in the end to all eternity. 

The effect of this temptation was, that instead of 
being led back to my old companions, their company 
and presence were made all the more disgusting to 
me ; so that I resoh^ed to keep out of their way, 
and seek seclusion from all society. I had made 
two or three efforts to pray, but it seemed like 
solemn mockery, and only aggravated my distress. 

One evening as I came from my work, my wife 
said we needed something from the store, and I at 
once started to obtain it. As I came near the store, 
the thought of my resolve not to put myself in the 
way of my old associates, came to me, and so I 
passed by the store to see if any of them were in. 
If so, I would return without the article. I saw 
the store was empty, and went in. But no sooner 



A TURNING POINT. 75 

had I got into the room than in came Mr. U. T. 
James, the hotel keeper. I at once turned my face 
from him, determined I would not sin any more by 
joining with him in ridicule of sacred things. I had 
no sooner thought it than he came up to me, saying 
in a bantering, sneering, devilish tone, " Well, 
Hiram, I understand you are crying 'Abba Father.' " 
My first impression was to deny it by cursing and 
swearing. The next impression, as quick as thought, 
was, "Confess it and confess Christ." I replied, 
"]\Ir. James, it is time I cried for mercy and relief 
from sin. You and all of us as sinners need to cry 
to God to be merciful to us." He at once turned 
as pale as ashes and ti'embled in every muscle, while 
George Allen, the clerk in the store, looked at me 
with blank astonishment. 

Then something seemed to say in a superhuman 
whisper, "iVbi^ go and pray, and you shall be heard 
in heaven, and Jesus will relieve you of all your 
burden and apply His blood to cleanse your pollu- 
tion and make you whole." Away I went to my 
home, only stopping long enough to leave the article 
on the table, and hurried to the bam, behind which 
I kneeled and opened my mouth in confession and 
prayer to God. And O, such relief! O, such joy I 



76 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

O, such views of Christ and of the plan of salva- 
tion ! And what a debasing sense of myself, of my 
misspent life, of my awful sins against God and His 
holy law ! 

I at once went into the house and exclaimed, 
" Almedia, God for Christ's sake has had mercy upon 
your poor, miserable husband." And to my mother 
I said, " Your son that was dead, is alive ; was lost, 
is found." Soon the Christian neighbors came rush- 
ing into my humble cottage, and expressed their 
gratitude to God in hymns of praise, and the prayer 
of thanksgiving to Jesus the Savior of sinners. At 
midnight, we closed the delightful exercise by singing 
that old hymn, now found only in books that are out 
of print : — 

" Away my unbelieving fears ; 
Fear shall no more in me have place. 
My Savior doth not yet appear ; 
He hides the brightness of His face. 
And shall I therefore let him go, 
And basely to the tempter yield? 
No ! in the strength of Jesus, No I 
I never will give up my shield." 

That was my birth night. The Kingdom of God 

had come down to me. I was a new man in Christ. 

After this first morning, I had an opportunity to 



A TURNING POINT. 77 

receive the congratulations and advice of not a few 
veteran Christians of the different denominations in 
the place, — among them, Dea. Barrett and DeWolf, 
of the Baptist, and Hon. Timothy Barnard and 
Deacon Ezra Sheldon, of the Presbyterian Church, 
and a large company of young converts, who had, 
within a year or two, been brought to a knowledge 
of the truth. I commenced attending the social 
gatherings of the new company, who assembled for 
the pm-pose of mutual conference and prayer — that 
is, the company was new to me, and I found myself 
astonished at the perfect contrast between what I 
heard, what I saw, and, more than all, what I felt 
now and only a few days before in the society of my 
old cronies. Only a short time before, I hated 
these men, now I loved them ; once I could not 
endure to listen to their addresses in such meetings, 
but now I was interested like a charm in all they 
said, in every hymn sung. And, although I felt 
weak and insufficient, yet I desired to bear some 
part, though humble, in the worship of God. I 
felt it was a special obligation resting on me to 
confess Christ in public and in private. Wherever 
I went, whoever I saw. Christian or not, I either 
expressed my new love for Christ, or rather His old 



78 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

for me, or I invited some poor fellow-sinner to go 
with me to "Mount Zion." 

Although I expected to join the Presbyterian 
Church, yet I knew no difference in my love 
between that and the Baptist Church. Christian 
men and women were now the excellent ones of the 
earth to me ; and I was just as much at home in one 
meeting as the other. I soon discovered, however, 
that Almedia had no relish for the Baptists : and, 
joined as she was by my relatives in this opposition 
to them, it became a source of gTeat UTitation to 
her and my sisters whenever I attended one of the 
Baptist meetings. And they commenced paying me 
off in the same coin, with compound interest, for 
my ridicule of the Baptists. They would put 
themselves energetically at work to invent some 
caustic joke at my expense : calling me, for instance, 
"the Weaver sprout of the last gTowth;" "the 
second edition of Elder Weaver, abridged and bound 
in cahf;" "my dear Elder Hiram-" "Brother 
Stimson;" "Our Elder," etc. 

But they soon found that this was all useless, for 
the same grace manifested to turn the current of 
my affections from error to truth, from hatred to 
love, fi'om sin to holiness, could not be moved by 



A TUENING POINT. 79 

any mere scoffing and silly laughing ridicule. I had 
been too well schooled in that kind of appliance, 
and too perfectly understood its powerless effect 
against the spirit of Jesus and the love of God 
j&lling my heart. I had tested it in the times of 
ignorance and opposition to Christ, "whereof I was 
now ashamed." 

This was soon changed for more stern opposition 
against not only the Baptists, but against all vital 
godliness and zealous Christians of every name. But 
in the midst of it all I came to the conclusion : " This 
is all right in the Divine economy of salvation. The 
Master means to show me how cruel I have been in 
pouring contempt on Christians, in ridiculing them 
to their faces, and how wicked I have been in my 
profane conduct and open opposition to Him and His 
anointed ones." 

After a few weeks had passed, my attention was 
called to the duty of connecting myself with some 
church. I need church-fellowship for my own wel- 
fare, and in order to increase my influence over my 
fellow men. But above all, I saw it was a positive 
command of the great Head of the Church. 



80 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, 



CHAPTER VI. 



A SEAKCH FOR A CHURCH. 



ny [O one had said a word to me, however, con- 
▼ ceruiug the matter, but I knew that I needed 
the advice of intelligent Christians. So when on the 
Sabbath, the pastor of the Presbyterian church gave 
notice of the preparatory lecture on the following 
Friday, and also stated the session would meet imme- 
diately after the lecture, to receive applications for 
membership, and also stated that on the next Sabbath 
the ordinance of baptism would be administered to 
infants and adults, I immediately said to myself: "I 
will improve tliis opportunity and offer myself as a 
candidate for membership ;" not for baptism, for I 
supposed that I had been baptized. "I will also 
bring my children — we now had two — forward for 
baptism." This I expected to do, as much as I 
expected to live till the next Friday and Sabbath. 
On Monday morning the pastor of the Presbyterian 
church called upon me at my shop, and after making 
a few inquiries about my hope in Christ, he asked if 



A SEARCH FOR A CHURCH. 81 

my children had ever been baptized and if I intended 
to present them at the administration of the ordi- 
nance ? I replied that they had never been baptized, 
and said I would present them, if I could get the 
consent of my wife. After a few more remarks upon 
the subject, the minister went out. 

There was at work in the same shop, John 
Woodbury, before • named in this narrative, a 
staunch Baptist. He heard my conversation with 
Mr. Anderson, the minister; so, when he had gone, 
Mr. Woodbury came to me and said : "Brother 
Hiram, did I hear you say that you intended4to have 
your children baptized next Sunday?" I replied 
that such was my intention. He continued : "Do 
you think it to be your duty?" "Certainly, I do." 
"Well, Brother Stimson, if it is your duty, it must 
also be my duty, must it not?" I replied : "Of 
course it is ; and here is where I think you Baptists 
are in error, in not having your children consecrated 
to God in baptism." He said: "If this is com- 
manded in the Bible, we are in error, indeed." I at 
once replied: "Well, it is commanded in the 
Bible ; I can show it to you in ten minutes, or 
could if I had the Bible here. I will look it up 
when I go home to dinner, and show it to you this 



82 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE FULPIT. 

afternoon." "Very well, when you do so I will 
have all my children baptized." "But," said I, 
"Elder Weaver will not baptize them." He replied : 
"Well, then, I will join the Presbyterian Church, 
and have Mr. Anderson do it." I now thought, "I 
have caught him ; " for I supposed that I could find 
it, or rather that my mother could, and I knew that 
the Presbyterian Church would be glad to receive so 
good and worthy a man as John Woodbury. When 
I went home to dinner, I took up the Bible, at the 
same time relating to mother, who was then present 
at my house, the conversation with Brother Wood- 
bury and the proposition he had made, adding, "and 
now, mother, let us find it and see if he will stand 
to his proposal." Upon which, she adjusted her 
glasses to her eyes, saying at the same time : "Well, 
the Bible is all full of it." So we sat down together 
to find this very easy and common command upon 
all parents. I of course depended on her, as I was 
ignorant of the Bible on all questions. She looked 
here and then there — first in the Old, then in the 
New Testament. Soon dinner was ready. "Come," 
said I, "let us sit down to the table, and aft^r dinner 
we will find it." She replied, "No, you sit down 
and eat your dinner, and I will find it, so that you 



A SEAECH FOR A CHURCH. 83 

can cany it back to Mr. "Woodbury." But at the 
conclusion of our meal, the said precept or example 
either was not forthcoming ; and still the dear old 
lady was confident the good Book was full of it, 
and she could find it by the time I came back to 
my tea. 

I went to the shop, feeling a little puzzled what to 
say to my dear friend Woodbury, if he should ask 
for it ; but not a word was said by him, and I was 
sure I should not say anything if he did not, and so 
the afternoon passed away. At the tea hour, I 
hastened home to get the required evidence on infant 
baptism. As I came in, I saw the Bible was put 
away, and mother was employed knitting as usual. 
" Well, mother,'- said I, " have you found the pas- 
sage on infant baptism, yet?" She replied, "No ; I 
can't find it. I thought it was in Ezekiel or Jere- 
miah. I have forgotten just where it is, but I know 
well enough it is in the Bible. But, Hiram, let me 
say to you, you had better keep away from those 
Baptists; they are always dogging converts about 
baptism." The manner and spirit in which it was 
said at once indicated to me a little distrust about 
the existence, in fact, of the thing I was in pursuit 
of. But I replied, " Mother, John Woodbury is a 



84 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

candid and pious Christian man, and the request he 
has made of me is a reasonable one ; he has used no 
influence to proselyte me, nor has any other Baptist, 
to anything but the truth and the salvation of my 
poor soul to Christ. And now, mother, I am not 
going blindfold one single step. I have been a 
miserable, deluded sinner all my life, and my eyes 
begin to be opened, and my prayer is for more light. 
I shall search the Bible for myself, and what that 
requires of me I shall do Tvith Divine assistance. 
Without it I shall fail and stumble ; with it I am 
confident of ultimate success and correct direction." 
She said I'd better go and see Mr. Anderson ; he 
would tell me all about it and find the passage for 
me. I replied, "It will be a pleasure for me to do 
so, and I will this evening." So off I started to 
converse with the Pastor of the Presbyterian church. 
He received me very kindly, and made many valua- 
ble suggestions about my future prospects, and the 
delight it gave him to know that I had seen my folly 
and turned to God, exhorting me to fidelity in: my 
Christian course. I then said to him that I was in 
perplexity about infant baptism, and informed him 
what had taken place that day, since I saw him in 
the morning at the shop. After a minute's pause, 



A SEARCH FOR A CHURCH. 85 

he said, and with some hesitation, "]VIr. Stimson, 
that is a subject you had better leave to take care of 
itself. You come right along and put yourself 
within the church, and this whole subject will adjust 
itself to your mind without any perplexity, in a 
little time." So back I trudged through the dark, 
made doubly so to me since I had not got the pas- 
sages on infant baptism, with which to meet Brother 
Woodbury. When I arrived at home, I told mother 
of my ill success with the pastor in my search after 
light, and sat down with my Testament to see what 
I could gain from that to help me out of my trouble. 
In the morning, as I resumed my employment in the 
shop. Brother Woodbury came along to my bench 
and said, " Well, HLiram, I have waited twenty-four 
hours for that Scripture on infant baptism; have 
you found it yet?" My reply was in the negative, 
of course, but qualified by the remark that " mother 
had been looking in the Old Testament for it, and 
that I was looking in the New, and if it was there, 
we should find it." I saw a slight smile irradiate 
from his face as he said, " Well, you have got the 
best part of it. Your mother will look in vain in 
the Old Testament for baptism, but you will find 
it is a very plain subject in the New Testament. 
There's not a word of it in the Old." 



86 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Here the conversation ceased, and during the day 
I resolved on two things ; first, I will not join any 
church until I see my duty made plain from the Bible 
on the subject of baptism. Second, I will take the 
New Testament as my only guide and counsel in all 
religious faith and practices. When I had made 
these two resolves, I felt such a confidence in Christ 
and His blessed Spirit as I had never experienced 
before, and from that day I commenced the study of 
the Bible, with an intensity and determination to 
know all the truth, but without the least expectation 
of ever being a Baptist, or thinking them correct in 
faith or practice ; no more than I had of supposing 
Mahommed was right. I really expected to find 
sprinkling and pouring as the common, if not the 
only act for the ordinance. But three short weeks 
revealed to me, and to my utter sm-prise, that I was 
mistaken. My investigation was carried on in this 
manner without any assistance from Baptists or Pedo- 
baptists : I commenced at Matthew, first chapter, 
and first verse, and continued through by course, to 
the last chapter and verse of Revelation, marking 
every passage on baptism, pouring and sprinkling. 
When I had fijiished I reviewed the whole, to find 
the results. I found the words baptism, baptizing 



A SEARCH FOR A CHURCH. «^ 

and baptized eighty-one times ; pour, pouring and 
poured, seventeen times ; sprinkle, sprinkling and 
sprinkled, seven times. Where the subject of bap- 
tism was alluded to, if qualified at all, it was by 
"going into the water," "coming up out of the water," 
"))eing buried with Christ in baptism," "baptized 
into Christ," etc., etc. The word jpour was quali- 
fied, but had no connection with baptism whatever ; 
and the same held true in regard to the word 
sprinkling. 

Just as I had closed this investigation in my own 
simple and private w^ay, the Rev. Mr. Anderson 
preached a sermon on baptism, taking for his text. 
Acts viii. 38 : "And they went down both into the 
water, both Phillip and the eunuch, and he baptized 
him." The first sentence of the sermon was : "This 
refers to the apostolic mode of baptism by immer- 
sion," and he went on to say, "No reasonable doubt 
can be entertained but that Jesus of Nazareth was 
thus baptized in the river Jordan ;" but he undertook, 
with a great show of words, to prove that other modes 
were equally as well. It was indeed a Godsend to 
me. My duty was now becoming plain. This first 
remark of the preacher, and my own silent investi- 
gations, left but little doubt as to what was the true 



88 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

course for me to pursue. All this while nothing had 
been said to me on the subject by any one. So the 
Monday evening following this discourse of Mr. 
Anderson, I walked over to see him unbeknown to 
any one. 

I have so far neglected to state one important fact 
in my early history, which is this : While my 
parents resided at Saratoga Springs, and while I was 
an infant, I was taken seriously ill, and my parents, 
fearhig I was about to die, called in a Presbyterian 
minister, who sprinkled me for baptism. I had 
always depended on this as sufficient until within 
the past three weeks, but now all my dependence 
on my infant sprinkling was gone. I found Mr. 
Anderson in his study, and he gave me a hearty 
welcome and at once iiiquii-ed : "Well, Brother 
Stimson, did you get any new light on the subject 
of baptism?" I readily answered, "Yes; lam glad 
to know that your iermon and my investigations of 
the New Testament convince me that the apostles 
immersed, and that the Savior was baptized by 
immersion in the river Jordan; and my business 
here to-night is to see if you will immerse me." " I 
will do so," he replied, "if you cannot be satisfied 
with anythiug but immersion and you have never 



A SEARCH FOR A CHURCH. 89 

been baptized by any other mode." I replied, "I 
must confess to you the truth ; " and I proceeded to 
give him the history of my being sprinkled when an 
infant. He then said to me, "Such being the facts, 
I cannot immerse you, as I would consider it sacri- 
lege so to do." " What can I do then? " I inquired. 
" You can join the Baptists ; they will immerse you 
on profession of your faith, notwithstanding your 
previous baptism." To this I objected : "I cannot 
do that ; they are close-communion." " Close-com- 
munion ! Pooh ! They are no more close-com- 
munion than we are. We take no one into the 
Church until he has been baptized, neither do the 
Baptists ; the only difference being in what we 
consider baptism." This opened the matter in an 
entirely new light to my mind and completely 
changed my views upon the question, and I said to 
him: "I'll go home and think upon this matter." 
As I walked along, I could but admire the man for 
his magnanimity and generosity. The next morning, 
I called upon Deacon Woodbury, a brother to John, 
and asked him a few questions about the Baptist 
Church policy, of their faith and practice ; and 
after getting a candid exposition of the matter, I 
informed him of what I had been doing the past 



90 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

three weeks, to which he made a remark of com- 
mendation and said : " Move on, Brother Stimson, 
with caution ; you are taking the right direction, 
and if you keep near the Cross, all will result for 
your advancement in the Divine life." 

But now the most trying pomt in all this conflict 
was yet to come. The opposition of my wife, 
connected as it was with that of my other relatives 
and friends, against the Baptist denomination, would 
be no surface agitation, I was satisfied ; .and how to 
broach the matter in such a way as to evince a 
Christian spirit and not excite a disposition to 
contend, was a question of the first moment to me. 
I had ample time for reflection. From Tuesday 
morning to Friday evening, this subject was con- 
stantly on my mind. After supper on Friday 
evening, I said to Almedia, my wife, "Come, go 
along with me to the Baptist covenant meeting 
to-morrow afternoon." "Not I!" was her prompt 
reply. "Why not?" I inquired. "What do you 
desn-e to go there for?" she asked. "I am goiug 
to join the Baptist Church, if they will accept me," 
was my quiet answer. " You join the Baptists ! 
Well, you will go alone, then." At this moment 
my mother came in, and Almedia saved me the 



A SEARCH FOR A CHURCH. 91 

trouble of informing her. My mother comimenced 
weeping and talking at the same time. "Well, 
Hiram, you are the only child of mine that has 
experienced reMgion, and I was in hopes you would 
feel it your duty to join the Presbyterian Church, 
and I think you are hasty in the matter, and have 
been influenced by Elder "Weaver and the Wood- 
burys." "Not so," said I; "I have not exchanged 
a word with Elder Weaver on the subject of 
baptism; and as to the Woodburys, all that has 
been communicated to me is this : John Woodbury 
asked me to find infant baptism in the Bible, and 
you and I have made an effort and could not 
produce it. You then sent me to Mr. Anderson, 
and he could not produce it; and last Monday 
evening, I told him my convictions, and he says I 
am a Baptist, and as an honest Christian minister 
has advised me to join them, and the Lord Jesus 
helping me, I shall do it. - I want to do right, and 
I am confident the Bible directs in this way." This 
last remark put an end to the conversation for the 
present. 



92 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PDIiPIT, 



CHAPTER Vn. 



THE CHURCH FOUND. 



¥HE next day, in the afternoon, the covenant 
meeting convened, and a large concourse of 
people assembled. Among the number, were Heber 
C . Kimball and Brigham Young . Brigham sp oke . At 
that time he had left the Methodists, and belonged 
to what were called the Gifibrdites. He was quite 
fervent, and spoke with much feeling and effect. He 
was regarded as stronger in heart than in head. His 
faith and piety were counted of more force than his 
intellect. Heber C. Kimball, on the other hand, was 
respected as a man of much more mental power, but 
not of great devotion in comparison with his asso- 
ciate, Young. 



[A recent interview with Brigham Young, on the 
part of the editor, in company with Rev. E. P. Ham- 
mond, letters of introduction being given us by 
Father Stimson, satisfied him that this estimate of 
him by Father Stimson at the time of his conversion 
would require modification, and much of it, to be 



THE CHUECH FOUND. 93 

applicable to him now. His piety can hardly be 
spoken of as dominant. His will can. His ambition 
can. His selfism can. His power overmen can. His 
early simplicity of heart and devotion have certainly 
deserted him. A more Jesuitical, autocratic ruler 
of men, cannot be found on the globe. Men change. 
Brigham is a puzzle ; and Mormonism is puzzling. 
The latter because of the former. Men who have 
known him longest, acknowledge that they know the 
least about him. He is fearfully and wonderfully 
made ; especially the former. And yet he will talk 
to you with the greatest apparent relish, of pure and 
undefiled religion. Abandonment of principle is 
followed by either open wickedness, or habitual 
hypocrisy. Brigham is an exception : in his case 
it has been followed by both. — Ed.] 



At the meeting referred to, thirty-one converts 
related their experience to the church, and the next 
day (the Sabbath) they were immersed in the 
likeness of Christ's death and resurrection, and 
among them was myself. A day never to be for- 
gotten by me. The Baptist church in Mendon then 
numbered about four hundred, a united and happy 
people. Their zeal and devotion were known in all 
the land. God was with them in the power of the 
Spirit. My new relation to the Baptist church I found 
a very pleasant one. A large number of ardent 
Christians and warm-hearted friends, both old and 



94 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPrT. 

young, stood ready to counsel and encourage in every 
good word and work, and the summer and autumn 
of eighteen hundred and twenty-nine was enjoyed by 
me as no former season of my life had been. In fact, 
this was the only drawback to the gliding days and 
months : my dear companion had no good hope in 
Christ, and no sympathy with the people with whom 
I was identified, and in whose society I found such 
delight and Christian fellowship. I could, however, 
see most plainly that she at times made great efibrts 
to render herself agreeable to those with whom I 
came in contact, but it was also as plain that their 
society was not agreeable to her. She was unwilling 
to attend the Baptist meeting, and would refuse to 
interchange visits with persons of that society, only 
in such cases as would be a breach of good manners, 
and sometimes she was not so careful even about 
that. All this grew out of one fact, a want of a 
change of heart and love to Jesus, as the sequel will 
show by her own confession in a subsequent work of 
grace, and as was manifested in a life altogether short 
of consistent devotion and application to the duties 
of a wife and mother in the Christian sense. 

It gives me pain to refer again to the opposition 
evinced by her during eighteen long months after I 



THE CHURCH FOUND. 95 

had hoped in the pardoning mercy of the great 
Redeemer ; and I have only consented to do it since 
her conversion to Christ magnifies the grace of 
God. "Where sin abounded, grace did much more 
abound." As I have before stated, she was 
possessed of a nature of kindness and a very 
benevolent disposition. Nothing was wanting to 
make home all that could be desired, except the 
one thing needful on her part. She opposed prayer 
in the family, and would absent herself from it, if 
possible, and often would resort to extra efforts to 
disconcert its order. She was unwilling that the 
pastor, or any of the Baptist society, should 
interchange visits with the family. 

All this rendered necessary, at the commence- 
ment of my discipleship, the very important grace 
of patience. In all that I have named, I saw in 
miniature what I was when in a state of alienation, 
fighting against God and resisting the truth of the 
Holy One of Israel. 

My own soul was in deep agony for sinners. I 
constantly felt a weeping solicitude that they might 
be brought to the Saviour, and I envied the talent 
and ability of any one that was qualified to expostu- 
late with and win souls to Jesus. But what could 



yb FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

I do? All my childhood and youth had been spent 
in sin and folly, and now I had come to the years 
of mature manhood, involved in the darkness of 
igno'rance. Religion don't educate a man, though 
it often makes him feel his need of education and 
gives him fixedness of purpose in acquiring it. No 
education ! no character ! and in no condition to 
obtain the one or strengthen the other, and with no 
hope of either, at least without the interposition of 
God's sovereign grace. 

To say a word to any living creature about my 
feelings and anxieties, I could not. If I should, I 
would be laughed at as visionary, or rebuked as 
ostentatious. In this state of mind, I resolved to 
make such improvement as I could under the 
circumstances. So I obtained a dictionary, and 
steuted myself to study six columns a day, by 
spelling the words and committing the definitions. 

A dictionary is the first thing instinctively sought 
by every ignorant person who is bent on educating 
himself. Without knowing why, they all feel that 
a knowledge of words lies at the foundation of all 
that needs to be known, or can be known. Here is 
a good point for philologists. 

My wife heard my lessons at night. This she did 



THE CHUBCH FOUND. 97 

with cheerfulness, little knowing what use I intended 
to make of my knowledge. During the day I would 
fix the dictionary before me on the bench, and would 
repeat the spelling and definition of the words to 
myself while I was busy at work with my hands. 
Every evening found me a little further on, till in 
this way I went through the entire book. I have 
found this systematic study of the dictionary of 
invaluable benefit to me during all my public life. 
Having had so few school privileges in early life, 
and having spent so large a portion of my time in 
the society of those whose language was as imperfect 
as it was impure, my knowledge of the spelling and 
meaning of words was very limited. I was at this 
time furnished with a few religious books and the 
New York Baptist Register. The books were, 
Baxter's "Call to the Unconverted," his "Saints' 
Rest," "The Evidences of Christianity," and "But- 
terworth's Concordance." These, with the Bible, 
constituted my library. But I made good use of 
them. 



98 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER Vni. 



A YEAR OF JUBILEE. 



Ca)bOUT the first of June, 1830, a powerful 
-^ -^revival of religion began in the Baptist church 
of Mendon, but extending to adjacent towns, and 
continuing into the autumn of the year ; and then 
increased in power as the winter set in. A year, 
blessed be God! never to be forgotten by me, nor 
by a multitude of others, redeemed as the purchase 
of Christ's precious blood. Among the number was 
my dear companion. This fact makes it the year of 
jubilee to me. She had not been to the Baptist 
church for months previous to the evening of her 
surrender to Jesus. She was induced to go by some 
means, I knew not what; and although we had had 
no preaching for weeks on account of the illness of 
the pastor, the meetings were continued from day to 
day and from evening to evening by the members 
of the Church, in a manner to interest and profit all. 
This evening the pastor thought it his duty to preach, 
as a large congregation had come out, and though 



A YEAR OF JUBILEE. 99 

quite feeble, he held the audience spell-bound, from 
the text, "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands 
of the living God." During the whole delivery of 
the sermon my soul was weighed down with such a 
spirit of prayer for my wife as I had never before 
experienced, for her salvation. It seemed to me 
that all I had ever felt for her before was merely the 
result of sheer selfishness, a desire to make me and 
my home, in a domestic point of view, more com- 
fortable. God never answers selfish prayers. He 
cannot consistently. But now I saw, independent 
of my interest in her as a companion, or as the 
mother of our children, that she had a soul to save, 
for which Christ died, and which, if saved, would 
be a star in His crown of rejoicing ; but if lost, would 
be lost in unutterable despair for eternity. And oh ! 
what a sense was impressed on me of that word, 
eternity ! " Oh I will she submit to-night to the 
Spirit's blessed influence ? " As the preacher closed 
his discourse, he said, "If any poor sinners will now 
yield to the Lord Jesus, let them manifest it." And 
while he was yet speaking, before any one had 
moved, she left her seat and came down the aisle, and 
as she came, said, "O, my dear Christian friends I 
will you pray for me a sinner? O, my husband! 



100 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

can you forgive and pray for me?" And then 
bowed herself, burying her face in the lap of the 
pastor's wife. Others came forward for prayer, and 
found peace in believing, almost immediately. But 
Almedia remained in her kneeling posture for a long 
time, under great agony of spirit, but at length 
arose with a countenance beaming with a heavenly 
smile, and broke the silence of the moment by 
saying, " Can such a sinner as I am hope for mercy 
at the hands of an insulted Savior? Yet I have 
insulted His Spirit, I have insulted His children, 
and," turning to me, "I have been angry at God for 
converting my dear husband. But with all this 
aggravated sin, my heart says I will believe in Jesus 
and I will follow Him by His assisting grace." 

Perhaps it will not interest others to relate all 
that transpired for the next two years after her 
conversion to Christ. I will simply state the fact, 
that at the first covenant meeting she offered herself 
to the Baptist Church for membership. And 
although the day of her baptism was one of intense 
cold, she, with others, followed the Savior with a 
joyful heart into the liquid tomb ; and from that 
day, was a practical illustration of the Scripture : 
"Even so we also should walk in newness of life." 



A YEAK OF JUBILEE. 101 

The next spring, we found it for our interest to 
move to a place called Sibleyville, near West 
Mendon, and so changed our church membership to 
Rush. In Sibleyville was a large business carried 
on in the manufacture of carding and agricultural 
implements. 

The factory was under the proprietorship of 
Hiram Sibley & Watson. The former of these 
gentlemen has since become wealthy, and, with a 
wise generosity, has given a large sum of money to 
the Rochester University, with which " Sibley Hall " 
has been erected, one of the first educational build- 
ings in the land. Though not a member of the 
Baptist Church, his sagacious eye has seen the 
immense advantage to a city and commonwealth, 
for all time to come, of the establishment of such 
an institution of liberal learning on the most per- 
manent basis, and his hand has given accordingly. 

In my new employment, I was connected with a 
class of hands numbering some eighty in all, and 
not one of them a Christian, except an old man by 
the name of Kimble, a Methodist, pious and godly. 
The whole company, with this single exception, was 
given to drinking, profanity and Sabbath desecration. 
I proposed to Kimble to start a meeting in the 



102 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PTILPIT. 

place ; but he thought it useless, as our associates 
were so irreligious, the most of them being drunk- 
ards and scoffers at sacred things. "Well, then," 
said I, " let us get up a temperance meeting, and see 
if some of them can't be reformed." But he said, 
"No ; we can't do anything for them." "Well, I 
shall make an appouitment, and you must come out 
and act as chairman of the meeting." He finally 
consented, if I would take the responsibility of the 
result. "I will assume that," I replied. So I made 
an appointment at the school house, giving a written 
notice. It so happened, without any design on my 
part, that it would occur on "town meeting" day. 
I went to East Kush and selected a young medical 
student to come up and be secretary. His name 
was Howard. The evening of the meeting came, 
and the whole crew in and about the shops had been 
to the "town meeting," and were well liquored up. 
Kimble saw the cases we had to deal with, and 
regretted that we had hit upon that evening. But 
in we went, and found the school-house jammed 
with all classes. Many were respectable young 
men and women, while a host were hard cases, 
highly fired up with "town meeting" whisky. As 
we came in with our associates, all manner of 



A YEAR OF JUBILEE. 103 

remarks were made : "There come the cold water 
devils;" "hold your breath, Jake — ^you will take 
fire from that candle," etc. Then followed a loud 
laugh. Kimble looked as pale as ashes. I arose 
and said : "It is time to organize the meeting, and 
I will nominate Mr. Kimble as chairman and Dr. 
Howard as secretary." The Doctor seconded the 
motion. "All in favor of the motion, will say, aye." 
"I;" "I;" "I will;" "I won't;" "I shan't;" "I 
can't," went up on all sides. "Contrary-minded, say 
no." "No — no — no — no, not I;" "No, not you, 
old 'Kib." The whole scene was not the most 
orderly imaginable, nor calculated to quiet delicate 
nerves. Kimble took the chair, with about as much 
grace as a dog gets over the fence after he has been 
caught stealing sheep. He called on me to pray, 
which I did as well as I knew how under the unde- 
votional circumstances, when they began hooting 
and jeering again. But I at once arose and com- 
menced addressing the meeting something as 
follows : 

"My dear neighbors of Sibley ville, I rejoice to see 
so many of the respectable inhabitants of this place 
out to this meeting to-night. It argues well for 
your respect to the cause of sobriety and the cause 
of humanity. The occasion is most auspicious, for 



104 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

more than one reason : It is town-meeting day, or 
the evening of our town election, in which a few 
have not only exercised their right to the elective 
franchise, but to improve the right of driaking 
egg-nog well seasoned with bad whisky, and such 
other drinks as men indulge in to make fools of 
themselves, and to disgust all good and honest- 
thinking people ; and as we have a few specimens 
of that disgusting and degTading class present 
this evening, I propose to talk to you about 
Temperance.''' 

As soon as I had pronounced the word '^''temper- 
ance,^' a pettifogging lawyer of the town rose in his 
place and interrupted me by asking : "^Vliat is the 
definition of the word 'temperance ' ? " 

I saw at once that it was all done to disturb the 
meeting and get up a row, and, if possible, break 
up the meeting by disorder and drunken slang. I 
knew him to be a man of some education, — in fact 
he had been a school-teacher in the town, and was 
in repute as a man of intelligence. So I replied, 
"I presume every person in the congregation is 
quite familiar with the definition of the term, except 
Mr. Townsand ; and as he has been so long accus- 
tomed to the other side of this important word, 
and has now nearly finished his course of intemperate 



A YEAR OF JUBILEE. 105 

education, I propose, now, that we buy him a 
Webster's spelling-book and send him to a good 
school, to some woman teacher for three months ; 
and at the end of his time, if he has not learned 
the signification of the term temperance, that we 
then put him on a course of simple diet of buck- 
wheat cakes and cold water for three months more. 
And if that don't effect his knowledge of the word^ 
at the next town-meetmg we will turn him over to 
old ''Aunt Cloe,' the goddess of his passions." 

At the conclusion of this reply, the entire 
congregation were in a perfect storm of laughter at 
poor Townsand's expense. 

I then made an appeal to the young men, sighting 
them to the class present who had given us, there 
and then, such a demonstration of the effect of a 
drunkard's life and character, and asked them to 
decide that night which side they would take ; and 
every man and woman present, who was not iden- 
tified with that company of the baser sort, came 
up and signed the pledge — among the number, Hon. 
Hiram Sibley and his partner in business, Mr. 
Watson. After this, temperance was the order of 
the community. 

Poor Mr. Townsand never heard the last of the 
proposition to send him to a woman's school. 



106 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER IX. 

SHALL I PEEACH? FIEST PASTORATE. 

IN my new relation with the church at Rush, I 
found a more ample field in which to develop the 
ardent desire of my heart. The church was small 
in comparison with the one at Mendon, which at 
the time numbered some four hundred. At Rush 
the numerical strength was one hundred all told, 
mostly poor and not well-trained in Christian work. 
In fact, many of them did not believe in the 
benevolent efforts made for the extension of the 
Messiah's kingdom, while a few believed in every 
good word and work. The pastor was a young man 
from the Mendon church. Partly owing to this, I 
was at once put forward by the working members 
of the little church, and encouraged by the young 
pastor to enter every open door of usefulness — the 
Sunday school, prayer meeting, the conference 
meeting. In a short time we established a number 
of out-stations, some in considerable-sized towns 
near by. 



FIRST PASTORATE. 107 

My effort at the temperance meeting had created 
quite a stir among the better class of the commu- 
nity, and not a little rage among the baser sort. 
Thus I was called upon to address gatherings at 
Sunday school meetings and temperance societies. 
I was at home with all classes of working Christians : 
Methodist, Presbyterian and Baptist. 

Long before I left Mendon, I was impressed with 
the duty of preaching Christ to all my fellow- 
sinners, but was always met with the depressing fact 
of my unfitness for a work of such magnitude and 
responsibility. No expectation of even a common 
education, I yet had an insatiable thirst for 
knowledge, that I might tell the story of Christ's 
love to a world of lost sinners, what He had done 
and was doing for their salvation. 

Many dear friends said and did much to encourage 
me to enter just as I was upon the work, while 
others suggested that I might perhaps go to Hamilton 
and take what was called the "short course." But 
this looked well-nigh impossible, for two reasons : 
First. In that case, my wife and children would be 
without any visible means of support, while I was 
twenty-six years of age and not instructed in even 
the common branches. What little knowledge I 



108 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

did possess, was in a crude and disconnected state. 
Second, The church in Rush was quite divided on 
the question of licensing me to improve my gifts in 
preaching. Something was the matter, first of all, 
with my doctrinal views. A part thought I was not 
exactly sound on the election phase of the Gospel, 
whatever that is ; while others thought that if this 
was true, it might not work great inischief to let 
me try and do all the good I could in the name of 
my newly-adopted Master, Christ the Lord. As to 
my own views, I did not know which I was, or on 
which side of these questions I properly belonged. 
But this one thing I did know, that Jesus Christ 
came into the world to save sinners, and the Gospel 
was the power of God unto salvation to every one 
that belie veth. 

I continued to hold meetin2:s in such communities 
as opened a door to my poor efforts, so that all my 
Sabbaths were occupied. At length the pastor 
pressed the church to give me a regular license to 
preach wherever God should cast my lot. The 
" hypers " opposed and the " lowpers " pressed it to 
decision. The vote was finally decided with six 
majority in my favor, out of about fifty votes. The 
clerk refused to make a record of the action, because 



FIRST PASTORATE. 109 

the sisters voted. The pastor and friends asked 
him to give a certificate of the vote, which he also 
declined to do. The devil shows his ingenuity in 
inventing such men and getting 'them into the 
Church. He generally only loans them to the Church, 
for in nine cases out of ten, he receives them back 
again. This man was not an exception. He con- 
tinued to show his pious zeal for having all things 
work according to "Gunther" in the church. When 
I received a call to the little church in the "town" of 
Alabama, Genesee County, and decided to accept it, 
the question of my receiving the license came up 
again ; but he, with the- same holy love of meanness 
as ever, stoutly refused it. He was shortly deposed 
from the clerkship, excluded from the* church, and 
imprisoned on being found guilty of theft. His name 
was Murray. 

During the pendency of this certificate business, I 
kept still, having very little confidence in paper 
credentials, paper creeds, paper religion or paper 
sermons. (Skip the last word, or read it in a 
whisper.) 

I soon moved to my new field, where I found my 
hands and heart full. I was shortly ordained by a 
council of churches, represented by the following 



110 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

pastors : Elijah Weaver, G. B. Davis, KosweU 
Kimble, Martin Coleman, Samuel Gilbert, Horace 
Griswell, Stephen A. Weaver, and Wm. Barrett. 
I think all these have pas'sed away to their rewards, 
except the last named, who left the Baptist Church 
and joined himself with the Methodists. 

The church in Alabama was organized in 1831, 
with twenty-one members. The following year they 
reported to the Association one hundred and ninety- 
two. I remained with them until 1835, when I 
accepted a call from the church in Parma. 

This was a very trying year to me. During it my 
dear Almedia sickened and died, leaving me with 
four small children, and myself with impaired health, 

I have had misgivings about the right of leaving 
Alabama at the time I did ; yet I then thought it 
duty. Certain after developments have led me to 
question the correctness of the step. The whole 
time of my connection with the Alabama church 
was one of uninterrupted prosperity. 

Many incidents occurred in this country church, 
which are worth remembering. In one portion of 
the "town" was a community of Universalists, who 
controlled the school house in that district. There 
was then but one pious family in the neighborhood, 



FIRST PASTORATE. Ill 

the man a deacon in my church. He was quite 
desirous that an effort should be made for the refor- 
mation of his neighbors. But many of the church 
thought it impossible (at least inexpedient,) for so 
young and inexperienced a person as myself to be 
brought into contact with these semi-skeptics with 
any advantage to the cause. But I told the deacon 
that if he would get the right of the house, and he 
and his wife and little Adney would stand by the 
cross and pray for salvation, I would come over and 
in the name of Jesus I would " strike for liberty and 
salvation." 

He and "Aunt Eliza" gave the best of assurance 
of fidelity to the work at whatever cost. So we gave 
out the appointment for Wednesday evening, and the 
meetings to be continued day and night, for time 
indefinite. It was early in March, and farmers had 
not much to do. Wednesday evening came, and with 
it, a crowd that filled the house in every part. A 
murmur was heard in a certain corner, with such 
remarks as : "I smell brimstone ;" "the devil will get 
you ;" "look out for the bottomless pit ;" "hell will be 
your portion;" "now for a gospel storm of hail and 
hot damnation, mixed." 

While this was going on, I called on the deacon, 



112 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

his wife and little boy to pray. Such pleading with 
God it seemed to me I had never listened to before ; 
and soon all was still as the hour of death. At this 
moment came in Mr. McC. and wife, carrying a light 
stand and two candles, also a chair apiece. As the 
Squire, for such he was, took his seat in fi'ont of the 
desk and fixed his writing apparatus, an audible smile 
arose from all over the room. I arose, called on all 
to sing the fifty-fifth Psalm, in Watts' old book, 

" Let sinners take their choice, and choose the road to death," 

and announced as my text, when they had finished 
smging ; "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, 
for it is the power of God unto salvation to every 
one that belie veth." 

As I was about to proceed with my sermon, Squire 
McC. interrupted me by saying, "Will you repeat 
your text again?" I did so, calmly, and then went 
on. In a short time, "Will you wait a minute till I 
take that down?" I waited. And so he conttaued 
to interrupt me at almost every step for about 
twenty minutes, all this time the congregation 
evincing more or less merriment at the sharpness of 
Squire McC. 

All this time, the Deacon and "Aunt Eliza" were 



FIRST PASTORATE. 113 

groaning in spirit for Divine help for the stripling 
of a minister. When it came in point, I quoted 
from Mark iii. 28-29 : 

"Verily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven 
unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith 
soever they shall blaspheme : 

"But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy 
Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of 
eternal damnation." 

"Put that down, Squire McC," said I; "and 
don't forget the chapter and verse." I went on : 
"Our Universalist friends say that there is no eternal 
damnation. Jesus says there is. Whom shall w^e 
believe?" The Squire pushed back his chair and 
paper, and that was the last of his note-taking that 
evening. He sat the rest of the time with bowed 
head and downcast looks. The next morning, he 
and his wife called at the Deacon's and requested 
prayer, and confessed their skepticism and sin. 
They were both converted. 

Major Richards lived in this community, and a 
day or two before the meeting, he thought to 
nullify all the efiect of the meeting by alluding to 
it in something like the following : " Stimson is to 
hold a protracted meeting in our school-house next 



114 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

week." "So I hear," would be the response. 
"Well, I will tell you what I have been thinking 
about," he would continue ; " and it is this : you, 
Mr. A., (or B., as the case was,) will be among the 
converts." "Not I — not I," would be the natural 
reply. "Well, I will bet two shillings on it, 
anyhow." And, "I will take that bet," his friend 
would say. Then the Major would go to the next, 
and make the same wager. In his round he came 
upon Capt. H., who refused to bet money, but 
would bet a bushel of potatoes against twenty-five 
cents. 

The meeting continued a number of days, when 
one evening a lady came and invited me to go and 
stay with her family that night. I consented. She 
had come to the meeting on horseback, and her 
husband left the house first to go on and start the 
fires at home. On the way she told me that her 
husband was under deep conviction, but he had 
made a bet with the Major of a bushel of potatoes 
against twenty-five cents. He did not know what 
to do. Not that he cared for the potatoes, but the 
bet was a sin in his view now. 

When we arrived at their log house, we found the 
captain quite depressed in spirit. I at once com- 



( 



FIRST PASTORATE. 115 

menced conversation with him about his state of 
mind as a sinner, and put to him this question, 
" Capt. , are you willing to do any and everything 
you can for salvation in Christ?" "Yes; all I can 
do." " Will you pray in your family and begin here 
now, to-night ? " He hesitated. " Well, now Capt. ," 
I continued, "this is the turning point." He still 
hesitated. " Come, Capt., now resolve to pray, and 
ask God to forgive your sin of trifling with sacred 
things ; and to-morrow morning go to the Major 
and pay the potatoes, and tell him you have lost the 
bet, fair play." And I quoted Ecclesiastes v. 4-5 ; 
" When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to 
pay it ; for he hath no pleasure in fools ; pay that 
which thou hast vowed. Better is it that thou 
shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and 
not pay." He hesitated no longer, but cried out, 
" O, Elder, do pray for me ! " We all bowed, and 
God delivered his poor soul that night from con 
demnation. The next morning he went, paid the 
potatoes like a man, and confessed to the Major, and 
warned him to flee from the coming wrath. 

Thus the work went on against the deep laid plans 
and open opposition of the enemy. The third Lord's 
day after the meeting began, twenty-three were bap- 



116 FROM THE STAGE COAOH TO THE PULPIT. 

tized; Capt. H. and wife, C. McC, Esq., and wife, 
among the number. In all, eighteen heads of families 
and five youths. And we continued to sing, 

" O, careless sinner, come, 

Pray now attend; 
This world is not your home, 

It soon will end. 
Jehovah calls aloud, 
Forsake the thoughtless crowd. 
Pursue the road to God, 

And happy be. 

During this year a squad of blacklegs came to 
town, and as usual, made an onset upon the morality 
of the community. They secured a large field 
adjoining the house in which we worshiped, and 
fitted it up for the races. I trembled for our youth 
in view of this moral pest. Horse-racing, like 
circuses, may be all right ^er se, only they are never 
found ^er se; per contra is the attitude in which 
they stand to all morality. 

The Sabbath before this devil's protracted meeting 
began, we held forth the word of life from the text 
in Psalms xvi. 9 : " Gather not my soul with sinners 
nor my life with bloody men." It had the desired 
effect. Not a Christian of any denomination at- 
tended, with a single exception; and he was 



FIEST PASTORATE. 117 

disciplined, and confessed his wrong doing. The 
Lord's day following the races, we preached from the 
text, John viii. 44 : "Ye are of your father the devil, 
and the lusts of your father ye will do ; he was a 
murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the 
truth, because there is no truth in him. When he 
speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own; for he is a 
liar, and the father of it." The chief man among 
the gamblers was present, and listened with marked 
attention to all the scathing utterances of the yoimg 
preacher, with all the decorum of a saint. He had 
won a thousand dollars at the races the week previ- 
ous. As the congregation was dismissed he took 
his position near the door, and as I came out, he 
reached me his hand, and with a smile, said, "I am 
happy to hear you to-day, and should be pleased to 
make your acquaintance, Mr. Stimson. Good day, 
sir," and he passed off among the crowd. In shaking 
hands he had left a ^yg dollar note in my hand. 

On my way home I commenced the following close 
conversation between myself and this son of Belial, 
now absent in body but present in spirit; "Well, 
Mr. Devil Jr. , you think you have caught me in a 
trap, but I will let you know that I don't bite at any 
such poison-bait. If you have paid this to buy your 



118 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

conscience ease, it will only increase your pains four- 
fold." I thus went to my home and told my wife 
what had occurred, and showed her the note. She 
smiled, and remarked, " Quite a nice donation." I 
replied, "Not so nice for me. This is hush money. 
And I will make the deviPs children wish they had 
kept it out of my hands." 

The next morning I went to the hotel, and asked 
the clerk for Mr. R. He directed me to his room, 
where he greeted me with all the suavity of Lord 
Chesterfield. Mr. R. with his companions, were 
surrounding a table loaded with liquors of different 
brands in fine cut glasses. I walked up to the 
table and laid down the bill, saying: "Here, Mr. 
R., is the bill you left in my hand yesterday. I 
now return it to you as "base gain," iUy gotten by 
you, and probably given to a poor minister to ease 
your guilty spirit, or as a pretext for scandalizing 
the servants of God, by saying Hhey will preach 
against our profession, but are as eager as other men 
to get the avails.' Gentlemen, I cannot take a bribe. 
You are young men that appear well in exterior, but 
inwardly are corrupt. You have brought to our 
town, and have caused to congregate here during 
these days of races, the vilest prostitutes, to poison 



FIRST PASTORATE. 119 

and pollute our young men. The worst forms of 
intemperance follow in your wake, as a besom of 
death and destruction to all that come within your 
power. May the Spirit of God follow you, and 
hedge up your way to despair. Good morning, 
gentlemen." 

During this little speech each man sat as still as if 
made of marble. In a few days it was ascertained 
from the landlady, that it was a plot designed to 
bring scandal on the minister ; that he would as soon 
take money from gamblers as from any other source. 
But it failed this time. I was gratified in after years 
to learn from J. H. Green, the reformed gambler, 
that this same Mr. R. became a reformed man and a 
Christian, and related to Mr. Green the circima- 
stances of the foregoing plot, and requested him if 
he ever came North, to find me out, and if living to 
extend to me his grateful emotions for kind and plain 
dealing. 

The following winter was a time of general refresh- 
ing in all the churches in Western New York. Our 
dear church in Alabama had a divine portion meted 
out to them, but not as extensive as that of a year or 
two previous. The church was well united, and 
quite happy in their covenant relation with each 



120 FROM THE StAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

other. There remained, however, not a few in the 
community who had not been personally brought to 
accept Jesus. Among others there were three yoimg 
men, whose names we shall not mention, whose 
enmity to the truth had increased in the same propor- 
tion as they had resisted Christ and grieved the 
Spirit. 

Among others that they didn't like, was the pastor 
of the Baptist church. I had a young and spirited 
horse which needed a vigilant eye, and careful hand- 
ling. My carriage was a rude sort of concern, 
mostly manufactured by my own hands, but answer- 
ing all the purposes of a poor minister in a new 
country. It was early in March, when I had an 
appointment at an out-station where these young men 
resided. My appointment was on^ the evening of 
Sabbath. I arrived at the usual time, and as a light 
snow was falling, I covered my animal up snugly 
with the blanket, and went into the school-house. All 
were waiting for the minister. In the course of the 
evening, in came these three young men, and quietly 
waited till the meeting closed. I got into my buggy, 
if it could be dignified by such a name, and drove 
carefully home as usual, not mistrusting the least 
harm to myself or property. There had been a 



FIRST PASTORATE. 121 

February thaw, and as the ground froze up again it 
left deep ruts, which I let the buggy follow ; got 
home between ten and eleven o'clock, put up the 
horse and went to bed, unconscious of any danger to 
which I had been exposed. As I went to the barn 
in the morning, in passing the vehicle I noticed a 
linch-pin was missing, and on examination found that 
all were gone. On going into the barn, I found that 
the harness was cut in a number of places, and only 
held together by mere strings ; if any part had given 
way, or a wheel had run off, a shipwreck would have 
taken place, and life or limb would have been in 
jeopardy in the darkness of the night. 

I went into the house with a deep sense of God's 
preserving care impressed on my heart, and with a 
strange wonder as to who could be our enemy. At 
family devotions I rendered thanksgiving to God 
for protection, and then prayed for those who had 
sought our hurt, but failed in their malice. After 
prayer, wife said : " Why, husband, what has 
happened that you should be so exercised at prayer 
this morning?" I tried to evade her inquiry, as I 
was unwilling she should know what peril I had 
been in, or that she should think 1 had an enemy so 
malicious. But all my attempts at concealment only 



122 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

made her the more mquisitive — ^for some women, 
even, are inquisitive — and earnest to know the facts. 
I told her, and showed her the buggy and harness ; 
and we mutually agreed to keep it a secret and let 
time develop the mystery, as I had all the time an 
impression that it would. f 

This occurred the first of March. Things moved 
on for a month or more, not a word coming to our 
ears from any source by way of explanation of the 
affair. As we were going to the same school house 
one Sabbath morning to fill an appointment, I saw in 
the distance a young man, sitting on a log by the 
roadside, and at once recognized him. What can it 
mean, I thought, that he should be out here Sab- 
bath morning, a mile and a half from home ? As I 
neared the spot, he arose and came directly to the 
carriage — by using different words to designate what 
I rode in, I may hit it — and after saying " Good 
morning," asked if he could ride with me to the 
meeting. I stopped, and as he got in he looked over 
the dash board of the ark at the harness, first one 
side and then the other. The place where the tugs 
were mended was visible to the naked eye. He then 
hung his head, as if in a deep study, and with a woe- 
begone countenance. There was perfect silence for 



FIRST PASTORATE. 123 

a few moments. At length he said : "Mr. Stimson, 
I have come out to meet you this morning to confess 
an awful crime of which I am guilty." At this he 
choked up, and became convulsed beyond utterance. 
After a moment's pause, he said: "Will you stop 
here in the woods ? " It was a dense forest. By this 
time he had so far got the control of his emotions as 
to speak distinctly. He proceeded, "I am one of 
the men who cut j^our harness and took out the 
linch-pins of your buggy. I do not want you to 
ask me who were with me and are equally guilty 
as myself. I told them last evening that I was 
going to confess to you the whole matter, so far as 
I am concerned. Now, Elder, can you and will 
you forgive me, and pray God to pardon me for 
this awful, malicious sin?" He went on to say: 
"The night we committed the act I did not close 
my eyes, and all the next day I dreaded to hear 
from the Lewiston road lest the news should be. 
Elder Stimson's horse ran away with him and killed 
or hurt him ; and when I understood you were 
about as common, I went into the stable and wept 
like a child. The entire six or eight weeks since 
has been a constant hell of torment to me, day and 
night. Now, Elder, tell me what I must do to 



124 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

satisfy you, and then what I must do to find peace 
with God and my almost distracted mind." "Well, 
my friend, you have nothing to do to satisfy me. 
As far as I am concerned, it's all cancelled. As to 
your relations to your Maker and Savior, all I have 
to say is, in the words of Paul to the jailer, * Believe 
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' 
Go into the meeting this morning and confess 
yourself a sinner, and ask Christians to pray for 
you. Now, will you do it?" To which he replied, 
in a subdued tone : "I will, God helping me." 
And we drove on to the meeting. The young man 
was as good as his word. At the close of the 
meeting, he got up and confessed his sins and asked 
Christians to pray for him. His sister, who was a 
godly woman, shouted out, "Praise God!" While 
this young man was speaking, the whole church 
was in tears, and two other young men were noticed 
to be quite restive in the back part of the room. 
I at once called on others who felt the need of 
prayer and salvation to express it by rising and 
speaking, and seven or eight at once improved the 
moment ; but the two restive young men did not 
leave their seats. We closed with a solemn season 
of prayer, and two found peace in believing. But 






FIRST PASTORATE. 125 

the young man was left in a state almost bordering 
on despair. The next day he called at my house 
to pay the damage to buggy and harness, but I 
declined to receive anything whatever. 

This was the opening of a new refreshing for the 
church. In the course of one or, two weeks, two 
other young men called at my residence, and wished 
a private interview. We went into an adjoining 
room, and as soon as seated, one of them commenced 

by asking me if a Mr had in any way implicated 

them in a certain transaction quite disreputable ? I 
answered, " No." " Did he implicate himself in the 
matter ? " " What matter ? " I inquired. " Any matter 
of injury to yourself or property ?** I answered, 
" Gentlemen, any matter confided to me of a per- 
sonal nature, not affecting the public interest, I am 
bound by the laws of Christian honesty to keep ; 
and as a minister of Christ, I am protected by the 
law of the land from divulging it even in a court of 
justice. (The only good law for which we are 
indebted to the Catholics.) So I hope you will not 
press me to answer any questions in regard to 

Mr ." "Well, Mr. Stimson,'we are involved in 

all the guilt of that malicious act in exposing your 
life on that night you came from the school- 



126 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

house, and have come here to-night to settle the 
matter, if we can." 

" So far as I am concerned in this affair, I have no 
price to set, no sum to ask. Have you arranged 
the matter with your God and King? Your sin 
agaiQst Him is vastly of more importance to you than 
all my interest. Do you feel that your acts in this 
case are a great sin against God? and that unre- 
pented of and unforgiven, they will peril your 
interests in eternity? I hope, young gentlemen, 
you will consider this matter in its true light, and 
bestow on it the thought its importance demands." 
" We called, Mr. Stimson, to adjust the damages to 
your property, and we are willing to satisfy you for 
all the inconvenience and loss you may have sus- 

taiaed. K had kept still and not acted the 

'fool by exposing the matter, nothing would have 
come of it. It will teach us after this to know what 
company we keep. Will you tell us how much we 
must pay you for your damages ? We are wilUng, 
Elder, to give you a good round price to settle it." 
I said sternly, " Why, dear young men, no money 
consideration could tempt me to expose my life as it 
was exposed on that night. Sitting in a conveyance 
behind such a spirited horse as that of mine, if one 



I 



FIRST PASTORATE. 127 

of the reins or tugs had given way, or a wheel had 
run off, the human probability is, I should have been 
severely injured, if not killed outright. I appeal 
to you, as common-sense men, what is the price?" 
" Oh, well, we only meant the damage to the carriage 
and harness. We are willing to pay a good round 
price for our folly. Now, tell us how much and we 
will pay it if we can." "I shall take nothing. The 
mere expense of repairing buggy and harness is 
trifling. I shall take nothing from you. I would 
like to see you in the same deep exercise of mind 
about your sins and lost condition, as your friend 
was a week ago last Sunday. It would be worth 
more to me than money counted by hundreds." 
" Oh, well, Elder, he believes in a judgment day, 
and in hell, and eternal punishment, and all that 
kind of thing. We do not. We believe God loves 
and will be merciful to His erring creatures, and 
will not be as exacting as men are to their fellow- 
men. It's getting late, and we have a long way to 
go, and if you won't take anything for your expenses 
and trouble, we will be going home." "Be pleased 
to wait a moment. I will call Mrs. Stimson in, and 
we will have a season of prayer before we separate." 
To which they reluctantly consented. After worship 



128 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

they departed, saying at the door, " We hope, Elder, 
you won't make this matter public." I replied, " It 
will be public enough at the judgment day, and I 
fear, to your everlasting regret." 

The next Saturday, at our covenant meeting, the 
first-named of the three young men applied for 
membership, relating his experience to the church, 
and the da}^ following, "obeyed from the heart the 
form of doctrine he had received." On the Sabbath, 
I preached from these words — ^Luke xvii. 17 : "And 
Jesus answering said. Were there not ten cleansed? 
but where are the nine?" The effect upon the 
congregation was subduing. Many wept aloud and 
others shouted for joy. It was a good day to the 
people of God. The two young men were not 
present, but had gone to hear the Rev. Mr. Hiscox, 
who preached in another part of the "town," where 
they heard hell spoken of as an "old heathen fable." 

The end of the two young men — they both became 
confirmed Universalists. One descended to a 
country tavern-keeper of the lowest grade, and 
died a drunkard in Michigan. The other became a 
poor, wandering vagabond, and died a few years 
since near Battle Creek, in the same State. The 
first of the trio sustained a good character from the 



FIRST PASTORATE. 129 

time of his uniting with the Church, respected and 
loved by all who knew him. He often expressed 
his joy and wonder at the amazing grace of God in 
his salvation, and would sing : 

" Why was I made to hear thy voice, 
And enter while there's room ? 
When thousands make a wretched choice, 
And rather starve than come. 

* 'Twas the same love that spread the feast 
That sweetly drew us in ; 
Else we had still refused to taste, 
And perished in our sin." 

During this summer I had more appointments up 
in the town of Eoyalton, then quite destitute of 
religious privileges, given to Sabbath desecration 
and trifling amusements. The place of holding 
meeting was a new log school-house, surrounded 
with a settlement composed mainly of Mohawk 
Dutch. They thought they were Christians by 
birth-right. They had the vaguest idea of what the 
latter term means. Of course, there is no such 
thing now ; so that for being ignorant of an obsolete 
idea, we could hardly blame them. But, to think 
and call themselves Christians, when they were 
destitute of the first principles of practical Chris- 



130 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

tianity, was hardly as excusable. Still, they had 
all been sprinkled in infancy — so they learned from 
their parents or near friends, if they ever took the 
trouble to inquire — and of course this made them 
Christians. If such a method of entrance in the 
Kingdom of Heaven involved any conflict — and the 
Bible speaks about a conflict — it must be the 
physical conflict of the infant in resisting the 
performance of the rite. 

After the second or third meeting, I was informed, 
as I came into the place, that I could not have the 
school-house any more, as I had ofiended one of the 
trustees by what I had said about whisky-drinking, 
Sabbath-breaking, dancing, etc. I was further told 
that the said "Christian" trustee had locked the 
school-house, and had the key in his pocket. But, 
if I said so, the house should be opened, if they 
had to have a fight for it. "O, no ! O, no !" said I ; 
"we can have meeting as well out-doors as in a log 
school-house. God is not confined to temples made 
with hands." So I drove up to the place, and there 
sat the trustee on the door-sill, with eight or ten of 
his friends surrounding him as a kind of body-guard, 
for they evidently expected a conflict of "Yankee 
snap with Dutch muscle." All about the house 



riKST PASTORATE. 131 

were men, women and children in waiting for 
meeting to open, or the battle to begin, as the case 
might turn. The old two-hundred-and-twenty-five- 
pound avoirdupois trustee looked daggers at me, 
and knit his brow in true Mohawk style. He evi- 
dently was carrying a heavy cargo of whisky. 

I at once said, "Brethren and friends, make some 
seats out of rails and billets of wood, and back up 
your wagons, and we will extemporize a meeting- 
house." And I struck up singing : 

" Religion is a glorious treasure ; 
It fills our hearts with joy and love." 

Soon all were in a comfortable situation to hear 
the Gospel of Jesus. 

I announced as my subject, "Love ;" text, Eomans 
xiii. 10: "Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; 
therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law." I 
arranged it thus: 1. What is "Love?" 2. Who 
is in possession of it? 3. Its effects. As I pro- 
ceeded, the audience increased till there was no 
more sitting room — ^rails and wagons all full. I 
stood in my carryall for a pulpit. When the noise 
of carriages and wagons coming up interrupted, 
I would sing a moment, and then go on again. 



132 mOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

At length my big Dutch trustee friend arose from 
the door-sill and cried out: "Holdt on, Domina. 
I'll unshet de schule-house, un de vimmin and little 
schildren may go in, and de mans and pigger poys 
may stay as dey am." I said, "Thank you, Mr. B. 
I knew you were a good neighbor, if we could 
only get it out of you, and here it comes." So 
we sang : 

" From whence does this union arise, 
That hatred is conquered by love ! " 

In closing up my sermon I did not fail to 
"improve" the circumstance in hand, making a 
strong point of my stout Dutchman. This was the i 

last of any trouble in that place as long as we held ; 

meetings there. i 



FABMA. 133 



CHAPTEE X. 

LEAVING ALABAMA ^PARMA. 

/ I (he Church in Parma extended me a call to 
-L become their pastor, in the fall of 1835. The 
first thought of such a move did not impress me 
favorably. It was here in Alabama I commenced 
my ministry, and was ordained to the sacred work 
of preaching Christ. I had enjoyed the confidence 
of a noble young church. Many of its members I 
had baptized and introduced into the body. I then 
thought there was not another such church on the 
face of the earth. 

On the other hand, the church in Parma was 
smaller and more compact. As a consequence, 
they would not require as much pastoral work and 
out-station preaching, giving me more time for 
study ; which I much needed and could not easily 
get in Alabama, with a field twelve miles square 
and six out-stations. Parma had a good meeting- 
house, and was considered a strong church. They 
would give me a better support. I accepted the 
invitation, and moved into the field in December. 



134 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

But it took only a few weeks to prove to me that 
I had not found the paradise I had anticipated. 
I hope I shall not be misunderstood, or seem to 
complain. By no means. There were excellent 
men and women, not a few whose memory is 
blessed. Eefreshing is it to call them up as they 
appeared to us then, and if it were not that it 
might appear inyidious, we would give their names. 
A number of things made the contrast between the 
two churches plainly visible, especially to a pastor : 
first, the church at Parma was sIoav to move 
out of the deep-worn ruts of bad habits — one 
was to have but one meeting on the Sabbath. A 
previous pastor had produced this custom, by 
preaching one good^ long^ doctrinal, sound, orthodox, 
Calvinistic, Baptistic sermon. The adjective "long" 
meant, when practically translated, two hours. 
Two hours of monotonous voice are equal to a dose 
of opium. 

My first efibrt was to break in upon this custom, 
by having a second service in the school-house in a 
central place. This would be Sabbath evening. 
But as soon as I suggested it, I met opposition. 
The main reason was, "TVe once tried it, and a class 
of roughs came in, and so distm-bedthe meeting that 



PAPULA.. 135 

we had to give it up." "Well, will you come and 
sustain the pastor by your presence and prayers ? I 
think I can manage any rude and disorderly per- 
sons." They finally consented that I should make 
the appointment. I did so, and the next Sabbath 

had the meeting at the L school-house. 

Just as I had announced my subject, the door 
opened, and in came about a dozen men and large 
boys, with fantastic dress and most indescribable 
faces and general appearance, for a civilized commu- 
nity. Every seat being taken, they stood up around 
the stove. Of course a general snicker, and then a 
burst of laughter, arose through all the house. I 
stopped and stood silent and still for a minute or 
more, looking at these sons of the lost tribe of the 
devil, for I could think of nothing else but some 
infernal prison-house, and these as the product of 
its general jail delivery. Some of the men were 
dressed in women's clothing; others had broad 
shirts over their outer garments. Others still had 
small baskets on their heads instead of caps. Some 
had leather and some rude tin spectacles. One had 
a kitten for a handkerchief. He would take it from 
his pocket and wipe his nose on it ; then pass it to 
the next. One had a large sheepskin with the wool 



136 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

on, through which he had a hole cut in the middle. 
Thrusting his head through the hole, it came over 
the upper part of his person like a shirt. 

I said to some small boys in front, " Will you 
please to give these friends your seats ? " They at 
once complied and the group started forward and 
occupied them. When quiet was restored, I 
attempted to proceed with my discourse, but had gone 
on only a very short time when one took the basket 
from his head, put a few biscuits into it from his 
pocket, then taking out a bottle, began passing it 
around to his crew. I stopped and looked at them 
with a steady gaze for a moment, and then addressed 
the audience as follows: "Well, friends, I have 
seen something of the world in its worst forms, and 
humanity in its most forlorn and depraved condition. 
I have been among stage drivers and sailors, among 
lumbermen and raftsmen ; I have been among Indians 
and plantation negroes, among drunkards and des- 
peradoes. But what I have seen to-night caps the 
climax. Here in Parma can be seen babboons and 
monkeys, jackalls and ourang-outangs, and all walk 
upright, just as the individuals of the human species 
walk, and come to a Christian meeting to show that 
they are not far removed from some idea of human 



PARMA. 137 

'intelligence. It may be they have come here to- 
night for the noble purpose of seeking an interest 
in the salvation of sinners. K so, let us pray that 
God will enlighten them." 

By this time deep silence pervaded the congrega- 
tion. All was as still as a grave-yard. Each rowdy 
looked at his fellow rowdy with blank astonishment, 
when the leader got up and began saying, "I am 
ashamed of myself and of my conduct, and now, 
boys, let's behave like human beings, and I promise 
this community and this minister that I will never 
do the like again. And if you will not believe it 
and take my word for it, I will give good security 
for my behavior hereafter." This man J. H. was 
outwardly a moral fellow, and his wife was a member 
of the church ; yet he had let himself down to the 
idea that it was smart to act like a fool. And the 
boys thought it a privilege to act the fool under such 
a leader. But this was the last disturbance at the 
L. school house. 

During this winter and spring I enjoyed a precious 
revival, and was assisted for a number of days by 
that able preacher, the Eev. Ichabod Clark, D. D., 
of sweet memory, and Rev. Zenas Case, of Ogden, 
whose praise was in all the churches as a man of 
God. 



138 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

In the spring, I organized our Sunday School under 
a new management, and made a change also in the 
order of our worship, having two sermons at the meet- 
ing-house instead of one. But the old settled habit 
of the church was a wet blanket on the enterprise. 
They would have opposed a second service of any 
kind, a prayer and praise meeting much more than 
a preaching service. As soon as the sermon was 
well under way, the next thing in order was sleep. 
This was bad habit number two. As soon as the 
morning service was over, there was a general start 
for home, parents taking the children. So the Sab- 
bath School service was small comparatively, and the 
afternoon was sparsely attended, plenty of empty 
slips at a discount. 

But I prayed for patience to endure all things for 
the elect's sake. And we had many sympathizing 
friends in the church who stayed up our hands in the 
day of battle. Among the number was the widow 
of the late pastor, Rev. Stephen H. Weaver. 

Here let it be remarked, that if a church is so 
fortunate as to have such a widow of a pastor as a 
member, every effort ought to be made to render 
her stay in the church and her widowhood as 
protracted as possible. For, of all helpers to a 



PARMA. 139 

pastor, if he is married, the widow of a former 
pastor may he the most helpful. There is a 
difference m widows ; I wish to have it understood. 
A widow of a pastor, she being a widow indeed, and 
moreover, an unselfish Christian, is a bright jewel in 
any church. Such know more than any one else 
about the real character of the different members, 
and they get at the very gist of the difficulties in the 
way of the cause. They have gone through the 
whole round of the life of the church, and are now 
living in an exalted sort of existence, where their 
vision is unclouded with personal feeling. Such 
widows of former pastors are a sort of presiding 
angel band to the churches. Very occasionally there 
is a slight deviation from this angelic rule. Once in 
a great while there is a great deviation. 

But Mrs. Weaver was one of the desirable kind. 
She said : "Brother Stimson, don't let these things 
trouble you so. It will injure your health and unfit 
you for labor in the future. I think it affected Mr. 
Weaver so, and was one of the causes of his early 
death.*' This was a sort of "bittersweet" consolation 
to my restive spirit, and I tried to make the applica- 
tion as best I could. That word was a godsend 
to me. 



140 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

As I remarked, the unholy custom of sleeping in 
church had been brought on imperceptibly, by long, 
monotonous sermons of a previous age, and had been 
imbibed by the younger people by force of example. 
One sinner destroyeth much good, was illustrated in 
this case. I resolved on a reform by mild means, 
such as short sermons, brief reading, singing two to 
four stanzas — some of the hymns had twenty — short 
prayers, and then a sudden start right off with the 
discourse — ^no apologies. Apologies are bad, espe- 
cially in the pulpit. But all this strategy failed, and 
I was irritated like a hornet in a spider's web : plenty 
of fluttering and buzzing and trying to sting, but 
nothing accomplished. "Caught," I thought, "and 
how to get away is the question." 

At length we hit upon a new expedient. The 
chorister of the church, a brother S., was a grand 
singer ; his two daughters sang like nightingales, and 
his son was capital on the bass viol. I called on him 
one Saturday, and made this request : that the next 
day at the morning service, he and his daughters 
should arise at any time during the sermon that I 
should think best, and sing the hymn : 

"Awake, my soul, in joyful lays,'* 



PAEMA. 141 

There must be no pitching of the key, no bass viol, 
but a prompt start, right off, like a steamboat. He 
consented, and I retired to the study, to arrange for 
the new tack on the sleepers. I arranged two ser- 
mons. One from Isaiah lii. 1, *' Awake, awake, put 
on thy strength, O Zion." The second was from 
Matt. xxvi. 45, "Sleep on now, and take your rest." 
So after the preliminary exercises of the morning, 
I started out on the former text, "Awake, awake," 
etc., quite moderately, in a measured tone, making 
a statement of the importance of the church being 
awake, in an active state of spiritual enjoyment, etc. 
I had proceeded only about ten minutes, when in all 
parts of the house, in the galleries and below, could 
be seen heads thrown back and eyes closed, others 
nodding, and still others with heads too devoutly 
bowed on the railing in front of them. I stopped 
short : "Will brother S. sing two or three verses of 
a hymn while we look up another text, as we see 
the one we have is not appropriate this morning?" 
And off the singing went : "Awake, my soul," in a 
good, lively manner. 

The whole congregation was like a miniature 
resurrection ; men snatching up their hats, women 
adjusting their shawls, others rubbing their eyes as 



142 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

if to discover the situation, and some taking out their 
watches to see what time it was. And still the sing- 
ing went on to the fourth stanza : 

" Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale, 
Soon all my mortal powers shall fail." 

When the singing ceased, I called their attention 
to the other text: "Sleep on now, and take your 
rest." The most of them had thought meeting was 
out, and were very reluctant about sitting down 
again, and still were unwilling to leave without the 
benediction; and so, quietly and deliberately took 
their seats, while I explained the reason for the 
second subject, and announced the following order : 

1. Why this liberty? 2. The bad influence of 
sleepy Christians. 3. The application of the subject 
to our present condition. 

I have always felt somewhat gratified with the 
reflection that at least one discourse of mine in Parma 
was listened to without a sleepy Christian in the 
house. Twenty years after, I went back to assist 
their pastor in a meeting, and many referred to that 
sermon as the cause of their resolving never to sleep 
again in the house of worship 

It is now a sweet reflection, after nearly forty years 



PARMA. 143 

are passed, that many of them have "fallen asleep in 
Jesus," waiting for that delightful morning of the 
resurrection of the just, which God will hasten in His 
time. Then, blessed thought, there will be no more 
slumbering. 

The following tenth day of November, I buried 
the wife of my youth. 

OBITUARY. 

Died at Parma, New York, on the tenth day of November, eighteen 
hundred and thirty-six, Mrs. Almedia Stimson, wife of Rev. H. K. 
Stimson, aged twenty-eight years. 

Mrs. Stimson first embraced religion and united with the Baptist 
church at East Mendon, Morris Co., N. Y., in the fall of eighteen 
hundred and thirty. During her short and unostentatious career, she 
honored her Christian profession by a consistent walk, a cheerful con- 
secration of herself to the service of the saints and a ready co-operation 
in the various measures connected with the advancement of the 
Kingdom of Christ. 

During a protracted illness she bore her sufferings with Christian 
meekness and patience, and the latter part of her time, with confidence 
of hope, often observing that death would be a welcome messenger. 
"When the period of her dissolution approached, and her exhausted 
frame sunk under the chilling dews of death, she requested her hus- 
band to bid her friends farewell for her, and as if longing to depart, 
exclaimed: "Come, Lord Jesus; come quickly I" and with these 
words fell asleep. 

Thus another servant is dismissed from the field of toil, and gone to 
rest. A husband with four small children survives to mourn his early 
loss. May he have the sympathies of his brethren, and what is 
infinitely more, the favor of Him whose grace can irradiate the darkest 
scenes, and make us joyful even in tribulation. 

WiLLARD JUDD. 



144 FROM THE STAGE COAGH TO THE PULPIT. 

The same month, I received a call to become 
pastor of the church in Bethany, Genesee County, 
New York. The Baptist church in Bethany was 
then one of the strong churches in the Genesee 
Association, with one of the best church edifices in 
Western New York. Its membership was composed 
of the best and the most respected portion of the 
community. Its congregation was large, and made 
up mostly of the young people of the toAvn, with a 
complete choir of singers led by James Prescott, for 
years a man of blessed memory. 

After an acquaintance of a few weeks, I accepted 
their call, and at once felt at home among them. 
There was but one drawback to produce discontent- 
ment. My family was broken up, my dear children 
were scattered in three different families, all in 
Parma. I was fortunate in getting them good 
places, where I was confident they would receive all 
the care dear friends could render. Still they were 
motherless and homeless, and absent from father; 
and I felt my separation from them. Still, every- 
thing was done by the congregation to make my 
situation pleasant and my ministry effective, as 
results will show. 

There were evidences at once of a Divine work 



PAKMA. 145 

all over the town. The three congregations of the 
place joined in a series of meetings, commencing 
with the Baptist church, and holding there twenty- 
eight days ; and then at the Presbyterian as long. 
All winter there was a continued refreshing of the 
Spirit, in which large numbers of the youth, and 
many of the aged, were hopefully led to embrace 
Jesus as their Prophet, Priest and King. Just a 
little unpleasantness was felt because so many of 
the converts joined the Baptist church. Out of one 
hundred, about eighty were baptized in the likeness 
of Christ's death and resurrection, and joined our 
church. 

For all this I was not to blame. I never prose- 
lyted. Only I could not turn those away who 
voluntarily offered themselves. This was a prosper- 
ous year to the church, in more than one sense. 
It was a year of numerical growth among the mem- 
bers, and it paved the way for subsequent advance- 
ment upon the powers of darkness, and made the 
people ready in every way for greater things to 
come. 

Late in the fall, I began to be depressed in spirit 
about the condition of sinners who were without 
hope and out of Christ. So deep and constant was 



146 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the distress, that I could not sleep or enjoy my 
daily food. And, what added to the acuteness of 
this state of mind, was the fact that the church did 
not seem to realize its responsibility. After receiving 
the tokens of God's matchless goodness during the 
year now passed, there was a singular lack of deep 
anxiety for sinners. There were no divisions among 
us ; no heart-burnings between brethren ; congrega- 
tions large and attentive to the Word and Ordinances 
of God; still, sinners, unmoved by the truth, 
perished. 

Thus things went on until the last of November 
or first of December, when my depression in spirit 
became almost intolerable, and it was with great 
effort that I could get my consent to preach ; and 
when I did, it seemed like speaking against a strong 
wmd, only to be blown back upon me. I thought 
the time had come to close my connection with the 
church at Bethany, if not to close my ministry 
altogether. While in this state of mind, I had an 
appointment at an out-station called "White's 
school-house" for Sabbath evening. The night was 
dark, and a drizzling rain set in just as I started 
from home. This, added to my already darkened 
and dampened spirits, made everything appear beyond 



PARMA. 147 

endurance, and I was wholly unhappy and unfit to 
preach. 

As I had gone along, I concluded that, as it was 
rainy and dark, there would be few or none 
at meeting, and I should be relieved of the duty of 
trying to address the people. But as I got within 
hearing distance, the voice of singing greeted my 
ears, and as I neared the house, I saw that it was 
jammed full. I exclaimed, in the bitterness of my 
soul, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
me?" As quick as thought, "There, that is a good 
text to preach from; try it, try it to-night." I 
thought to myself, "'VYhere is it? No matter where 
it is, try it. They are the dying words of Jesus on 
the cross." I hitched my horse and went in, to 
find the large congregation composed mostly of 
youth. I called on Brother Russell Morley, who 
was a man of power with God, to pray. But I got 
no light or relief, only a constant ringing in my 
ears, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
me?" 

I asked them to sing the hymn beginning : 

" »Tis a point I long to know , 
Oft it causes anxious thought; 
Do I love the Lord, or no ? 
Am I his, or am I not? 



148 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

(There may be special occasions when the singing 
of these lines is of some benefit to some one.) 
They sang it through, many with subdued voices. 
I could not sing at all. All was dark as midnight 
with me. An awful dread weighed upon me as the 
time drew near. As I arose and repeated the 
words of the dying Son of God, I made these 
impromptu divisions : 1st. Why God forsook His 
beloved Son. 2d. Why He will forsake impenitent 
sinners. And on I went in the dark. Oh, that 
darkness I shall never forget ! Perhaps I talked 
thirty minutes or more, and closed the meeting as 
though it had been a funeral, and went home, all 
but determined not to preach any more. 

The next Thursday was the dedication of the 
Presbyterian meeting-house, in which services I 
was invited to take a part. K I could have declined 
I would ; but could not without giving offense. So 
I went as the ox is led to the slaughter, and 
remained in great distress of mind. As the meeting 
closed, I hastened out to go to my home, but while 
on the steps of the house, a young lady touched 
my elbow in the crowd, and as I turned about to 
see just who it was, I discovered a Miss Evaline T., 
who said : "I would like to talk with you a few 



PARMA. 149 

minutes, Elder, if it would be convenient." I 
replied, "Certainly." She then went on to say: 
" Your sermon last Sunday night has brought me to 
see myself as a lost sinner, and this morning I 
found peace in believing in Jesus ; and I wished to 
see and tell you and everybody that God, for 
Christ's sake, has forgiven my sins." I at once felt 
light breakiug in upon my mmd like a sunburst in a 
dark day. I said, "Well, Miss T., I rejoice with 
you ; come, go to my house, and tell Mrs. Stimson 
of it. She will be glad to hear of your joy and 
conversion to Jesus." As we came into the parlor, 
I said: "Wife, here is Miss T., who has good 
tidings of great joy to tell you ;" and she went on 
and repeated the simple story of her conviction and 
conversion. "Now," I said, "I have one request to 
make of you. Next Lord's day, at the close of my 
discourse in the morning, I want you to tell the 
congregation what Christ the Lord has done for 
you." -She replied, "O, I shall be most happy to 
do so." 

I well knew the effect it would have, for she was 
a proud and giddy girl. All her family were of a 
like stripe. Her father prided himself on their 
pleasure-seeking habits. The father and daughters, 



150 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

being good singers, generally sat in the gallery. 
Sabbath came, and a large congregation filled the 
house. As I entered, I thought it was like Israel's 
Bethel, "None other than the house of God and 
gate of Heaven." " God is here.'' The text was 
Isaiah li. 3 : "And he will make her wilderness 
like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the 
Lord; joy and gladness shall be found therein, 
thanksgiving and the voice of melody." 

I felt like another man, and all the church seemed 
transformed into a better state of religious life. As 
soon as I closed my talk. Miss T. rose up in her 
place in the gallery, and poured out a full soul of 
joy, and then of invitation to her young associates 
in sin to come to Jesus and be saved. It was like a- 
shock of electricity on saints and sinners. In a few 
days I baptized the father, mother, Evaline, Emily, 
Roscoe, Clarence and Dell. 

Now, our work had assumed such proportions 
that I felt the need of aid. So I resolved to get an 
early start for LeRoy, nine miles ofi", and get Brother 
Ichabod Clark to come over and help us. I arrived 
before any of the family was up. As he opened the 
door, he exclaimed : " Why, Brother Stimson, 
what brought you here so early in the morning?" 



PARMA. 151 

"The Lord," I replied. "Well, then, lam glad to 
have you come. Take a seat, and I will stir up a 
fire." "I have come after you, Brother Clark, and 
you must go with me to Bethany, 'for the Lord hath 
need of thee.'" I went on to tell him what the 
Master was doing among us, and he replied, "We 
will see after breakfast." 

So, after the meal and devotions, we went to his 
study. He began by saying: "Now, Brother 
H. K. , I could go to Bethany if it was duty to do 
so. But God has manifested himself to your 
people by his Spirit in a most wonderful way, and 
you and your church, under His guiding hand and 
Spirit's influence, are all the help you need. Now, 
go home and hold on to Jesus by prayer, and do 
not go after any minister or man. I will pray for 
you, but can't go." Anybody that ever knew 
Ichabod Clark can imagine with what decision he 
said this. 

I thought it a "bitter pill," and went home to my 
work with less confidence in self or any man, but 
with stronger confidence in God and the Spirit's 
power to carry on the revival. 

During the progress of the gracious work, there 
was not a little agitation in some quarters on the 



152 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

subject of baptism. A Dr. J. K. B. was quite 
zealous in opposing the ordinance as we administer 
it, and, as they admit, is Scriptural. Whenever 
a chance occurred, he would improve it. He had 
been a "head-center" in one of the churches in 
town for a number of years, and was chagrined to 
see the Baptists prospering, while his own denomi- 
nation had run down to such an extent that the 
meeting-house was sold for a school-house. He 
was one day called on to attend a family profession- 
ally, for he was an M. D. There were a number 
of ladies from the neighborhood present, but none 
of them Baptists, except one old lady from New 
England, a Mrs. P. She was seated quietly in the 
comer. Some of the women asked the Doctor how 
the revival was progressing in the "Center." He 
replied, "Oh, they are going on as watery as ever. 
I expect we shall have a great time of sickness this 
spring, as that pale-faced Stimson is dipping them 
every Sunday in the creek, cutting the ice and 
wading through the deep snow, enough to kill an 
Indian. Half of them will have the consumption in 
less than a year. As for Stimson, he won't live till 
April, the way he is going on. I wish there was 
some law to stop this foolish waste of human life." 



PAEMA. 153 

Mother P., who had heard it all, conceived that 
he had spoken disrespectfully of her pastor, and 
interrupted him in his tirade by saying : "Doctor, 
I don't like to hear you talk so about our dear 
minister. We all think he is a good man, and the 
Lord is manifestly blessing his labors here in 
Bethany and all around us." The Doctor interrupted 
her with : "Oh, Mrs. P., I did not think you were a 
Baptist when I spoke. Beg your pardon, madam. 
I have not a word to say against Elder Stimson. 
He is a good neighbor, and as social, friendly a man 
as we have at the ^Center.* I was only saying. 
Mother P., that I thought it imprudent for him to 
be going into the water this cold weather in the 
winter, exposing himself and others." She replied : 
"Well, Doctor, we Baptists believe this to be the 
right way, as Jesus went into the water and the 
eunuch went into the water to be 'baptized;' and 
then young converts are always so happy when they 
come up out of the water. I know I was when I 
was 'baptized,' and it was a cold day too, and it 
never hurt me a bit." "Oh, nonsense," says the 
Doctor; "I was happy when I was baptized, and I 
was not immersed, either." 

"Well, doctor, du tell me your experience about 



154 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

that, for in Connecticut I have seen a great many 
sprinkled, grown-up people and babies too, and I 
never heard any express a bit of joy — no more than 
they would at a funeral. Come, now, du jest tell 
us all about it." "Well, mother P., it was on this 
wise : My parents had neglected to have me bap- 
tized when a child. I was a young man when I 
thought I'd better join the church. So we all went 
down to the little brook, one bright June morning, 
and/ ivent down into the water ^ mother P., and 
kneeled down, and the minister dipped up some 
water in his hand and poured it on my head, saying, 
'Jonathan K. B., I baptize you in the name of the 
Father,' and my heart dilated with joy ; and then he 
dipped his hand in again and poured the water on 
my head, and said, *and in the name of the Son,' 
and I was so happy I thought the very heavens 
would open ; and then the minister dipped his hand 
the third time in the water, and poured it on my 
head, and said, * in the name of the Holy Ghost ;' and 
I was so filled with joy that I felt that I should go 
up through the clouds." "Why, du tell, doctor," — 
the old lady was looking him full in the face — " du 
tell, doctor; if you had gone in all over as we 
Baptists do, what would have become of you?" 



PAKMA. 155 

All joined in a hearty laugh at the doctor's ex- 
pense. The old lady's logical conclusion was more 
than equal to his trumped up wit. As soon as I 
heard of it, I called on the doctor to know about ' 
how much he had made oflf mother. His reply was : 
"Not much." 

The revival went on in grand majesty, clear into 
August of that year. The church was edified, and 
much people was added to the Lord. 

The Genesee Baptist Association was then among 
the largest in Western New York, and had as effi- 
cient a class of ministers as could be found in any 
part of the land. But few of them had what is called 
a liberal education, but they were men of great 
common sense, and of deep piety. And those among 
them that had enjoyed the advantages of a classical 
and theological training, did not assume that they 
knew all ; that their brethren of less advantages knew 
little or nothing. But there was a mutual disposi- 
tion to help, among the two classes of the precious 
brotherhood. The learned always gladly and frater- 
nally instructed and advised the younger and less 
learned. Criticism was not given in an officious, 
offensive way, but always with a kindliness that 



156 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

evinced the spirit of love and good will. It was also 
received in the same spirit of fraternal affection. 

So in their labors. If the interests in one part 
of the Association demanded help from outside, the 
field brethren would go and stay one, two and four 
weeks at a time. Thus a familiar and happy state 
of feeling was kept up. Our associational conferences 
were great sources of instruction and help to the 
youthful ministers. As for myself, they were a real 
theological school in which I received lessons of 
great usefulness in our practical pastoral work, and 
in preaching the Gospel to my people. 

In many cases they were also sources of spiritual 
profit to the churches where they were held. The 
members would come out and fill the house day and 
night. They were not cold, formal convocations, 
presided over by the spirit of ministerial etiquette 
and dead formality. We had no "D. D." among us 
then as we knew of. And yet we had, if it means 
teacher of Divine Truth. If it ever had any mean- 
ing, that's it. We were not slaves of technical, 
parliamentary rules. We were constrained chiefly 
by the loyal law of love. The motto of aU seemed 
to be, "Work much; love much." 

The decay of the old fashioned Associational 



PAEMA. 157 

meeting is certainly to be regretted. Whatever 
may have led to this decay, I do not pretend to say ; 
but of its fact and calamity, there can be no ques- 
tion. Even young men can remember the time 
when the "Association" meant much more than it 
does to-day, and they deplore it — at least some of 
them — as well as we whose steps are nearing our 
resting place. I am told by some apologists of the 
change, that this is an age of steam and electricity, 
and that everything is changed in consequence. 
That may be the cause ; if it is, the fact is just as 
much to be regretted. For we cannot love each 
other by steam and electricity. They may be good 
in their places, but they can never take the place of 
fraternity. As a substitute for the old methods of 
conveyance, and intelligence even, they do not work 
to the increase of our religious gatherings. When 
the travel was by wagon and horseback, the breth- 
ren would come together from a wider circle of 
country than now, and the place would be filled 
with the people and with the presence of the Master. 
It may be we have outgrown the necessity for such 
religious gatherings. It may be that they belong 
to a past age, and cannot be revived in their primi- 
tive power. If so, I am glad that I, too, belong to 



158 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

a former generation. All these inventions having in 
view quicker transit and more general intelligence, 
are good and to be sought for, provided they are 
used for God and His Truth, But if they are not 
used by us for this noble end, their materialistic 
influence will creep into our spirits and deaden them 
to higher spiritual things. "The earth" must be 
made to help "the woman." 

Perhaps I should give a list of these ministers 
then in the Genesee Association. Many of them 
have passed away. I will mark such with a * : 

Joseph Elliott,* of Wyoming; Ichabod Clark,* of 
LeRoy; W. W. Smith, of Batavia; William 
Arthur, of Perry ; Abraham Annis,* of Warsaw ; 
Jesse Elliott, of LaGrange ; James Read,* of 
Castile; O. D. Taylor, of Attica; Leonard Anson,* 
of Pine Hill; Martain Coleman,* of Byron; Elon 
Galusha,* of Perry ; B. N. Leach,* of Middlebury ; 
Harrison Daniels, of LeRoy; H. B. Ewell, of 
Pavillion ; R. C. Palmer, of Wyoming ; Bela 
Wilcox,* of Darien; I. H. Roscoe, of Pembrok; 
David Taylor, of York; C. M. Fuller,* of Pike; 
John Trowbridge, of Wethersfield Springs ; S. M. 
Stimson, of Batavia ; Augustus Warren, of Alabama ; 
W. I. Crane, of Middlebury; Emery Curtis, of 



PARMA. 159 

Morganville ; S. A. Esty,* of Batavia, and James 
Mallory. 

There may be others whom I have failed to 
recollect. Here are twenty-six, and just one-half 
have gone to the better land. Thirteen, besides 
myself, remain. The most of them are younger 
than myself, three or four are older. Those of the 
above number, who enjoyed a partial or a full course 
of study, also number thirteen. Only three, I 
believe, had received a full course at college. 

At our ministerial conferences, we had the custom 
of giving out subjects for essays, exegeses and 
sketches of sermons, purely for the sake of mutual 
improvement — a good plan, wherever it is practiced. 
The young ministers were recommended to write 
sermons and deliver them to their congregations, 
and then bring them to the conference for criticism. 
Among other young men to whom was assigned this 
part was myself. I begged to be excused, as I was 
not in the habit of writing sermons. But no excuse 
was allowed, and it was urged it would improve me 
in composition and the arrangement of sermons. 
And, then, I would have three long months in 
which to prepare. So I reluctantly accepted the 
situation, and as soon as I got home I set myself 
about my task. 



160 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

First, I got me a quantity of sermon paper. 
Second, I had to find a text. I chose Jonah iii. 2 : 
"Arise, go unto Mneveh, that great city, and preach 
unto it the preaching that I bid thee." Third, I 
commenced writing. I went on awhile, and then 
tore it up and put it in the fire ; began again, and 
then quit ; and after a month's work on it, had got a 
short introduction that I was not willing even my 
wife should read, and did not like to look at it 
myself a great while at a time. Went on again at 
odd spells, and the second month was nearly out 
and I had not finished up ^^ firstly J* I tried to hurry 
up, and the more I hurried the slower the thing 
went. I began to be worried. Time was short, 
and I was a slow writer, that was evident. I now 
resolved to double my diligence and put the thing 
through by daylight and lamplight. The Saturday 
night before the conference, about midnight, I 
wrote that expressive word, "^men." As the rule 
was to read it, or preach it, to my own congregation 
before I presented it to the body for whom it was 
principally prepared, I hid the ^reczows thing in my 
overcoat and started for the meeting-house. While 
the choir was singing the first hymn, I removed the 
document from my coat pocket to the Bible. I got 



PARMA. 161 

a deacon to pray, for I dare not. The choir sang 
the hymn : 

" Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing 
My dear Redeemer's praise." 

I read my text, and just at that moment a tall 
brother up in the gallery stretched up his long neck 
to see what I was about, and I lost my place by 
turning over two leaves at once. By that time fifty 
eyes were gazing from each side of the gallery, with 
a silent wonder, "what is the matter with the 
minister?" I then re-read the text; but, "no go." 
I got out of my ^x by saying : "K the Lord had 
called me to preach. He never had intimated in the 
call that I should read my sermons." On which I 
laid the precious efiusion one side, went about 
preaching as usual, from the same text, and had a 
good time. I related the facts to the Association, 
and the brethren very kindly excused us, and never 
appointed us to read a sermon again. We make no 
war on written sermons, but, as they say out West^ 
they are not our "best holt." 



162 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XI. 

A TRIAL OF OPEN COMMUNION. 

IN the town of Bethany was a "Free Will Baptist 
church," of quite a large membership. This 
same great revival had extended into their families 
extensively. Their children had a strong prefer- 
ence for our services. Already a few adults had 
joined with us recently from the F. W. church, as 
our chorister and his family, and one of our deacons, 
had joined us from them some years before. But 
still the objection existed in the minds of many of 
these youth to that great bug-bear, close communion. 
For some cause, they had become alienated from the 
"Free Church," as it was called, and did not want 
to join there. So here they stood. The subject 
was discussed in private circulars, and ministers 
were imported into town who encompassed (if not 
sea and land) every school district at least, and the 
"war-whoop" was heard on every hand, "close 



A. TRIAL OF OPEN COMMUNION. 163 

I kept about the Master's work, taking no con- 
spicuous part in this side issue, as we were quite 
confident the Baptist church in Bethany could live 
with Divine help, if these persons did not unite with 
us. Still, the door was open — the doors of a true 
church are always open. No minister has the power 
to open them. Jesus Christ openeth, and no man 
shutteth ; and shutteh, and no man openeth. And 
they could come in if they would. 

At a covenant meeting with a full attendance, and 
when many were presenting themselves as candi- 
dates for baptism, and all were in a high state of 
religious enjoyment, a prominent member of the 
church arose and moved "that the pastor be 
instructed to invite to the Lord's table, all such 
Christians as had been immersed on a profession of 
their faith, and were in good standing in evangelical 
churches." His motion was at once seconded. All 
was as still as a dark cellar. The old men and 
women of the church appeared to be "dumfounded." 
The brother who made the motion was a man of 
large influence in the community and in the church, 
as was the brother who sustained the motion. I 
suggested, "Brethren, this is an important step. 
Let us move cautiously in the matter. If any 



164 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

brother or sister has any remarks to make, use yom* 
liberty and speak freely. Due deference will be 
paid to your views and feelings." Not a word was 
spoken. All silent. "Brethren, what will you 
do?" "Question," "Question," from a number. 
"Are you ready for the motion?" "The question 
is called for." And the vote was carried without a 
single negative. Eighty voted for it. 

The result was, these "Free Will" friends came 
into the church like a flock of sheep over a stone 
w^all, scared by wolves on the other side. "The 
after clap " : The church was like the boy who 
drew the elephant : no hay to feed him on — ^no stable 
to put him in. Decidedly a big thing on our hands. 
The next day we baptized thirty-three, and at the 
communion, followed the instructions given by the 
church in Bethany (not so strictly those in our 
commission from the Lord) . 

Eighty-four came to the Supper from the Presby- 
terian, Methodist, and Free Will Baptist congre- 
gations, and two from the Universalists. They said 
"they had been dipped; and thought the Univer- 
salists were evangelical." (Our elephant began to 
bellow for food, and not a lock of hay to give him.) 
The next month at the Lord's Supper, there came 



i 



A TRIAL OF OPEN COMMUNION. 165 

thirty-one. At the third, thirteen of the invited 
guests. At the fourth, five. (Our big animal gave 
signs of falling into a decline.) At the end of eight 
months, none of our invited guests cared to take 
the trouble to commune with us. (He had died a 
natural death.) 

The church soon rescinded the motion by an 
overwhelming majority, and voted to give letters to 
all discontents. Five took letters. Three of them 
went to the "Free Wills," and two to the devil. 
(The elephant was buried.) 



[A few Pedobaptists, like Dr. John Hall of New 
York, have the magnanimity to accept the statement 
of the communion question as we Baptists put it. 
Which is the more bigoted? The "bigotry" to hold 
conscientiously to a valid principle, if it is unpopular, 
or the practice of ignoring the issue we make, and 
raising an issue wholly foreign to the question, that 
we do not make ? If it isn't bigotry or dishonesty to 
talk as many Pedobaptists talk on this communion 
question, as related to the Baptist practice, it is great 
ignorance and stupidity. ("We use great plainness 
of speech.") In no sense is the communion a test 
of Christianity. To say that by our practice we 
"unchristianize" other denominations, is most absm-d. 
It is too puerile to deserve refutation, especially as 
it has been refuted from time immemorial. But 
Pedobaptists, we are inclined to believe, feel the 
real point of our protest against their practice much 



166 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

oftener than they are ready to admit. The issue is 
the baptismal question, and they must know it, if 
they stop to think a moment. They are not confi- 
dent generally, in their practice of sprinkling and 
pouring for baptism. Our protest against this dis- 
turbs them. If we admitted their practice as Scrip- 
tural on the question of baptism, they wouldn't care 
enough about our communion to say a word on the 
subject. — Ed.] 

Dr. Hall says in his recent book, entitled, 
Questions of the Day:^^ 

* Close communion,' that is, tlie restriction of the Lord's table to 
those who have been baptized in the way held by the denomination, 
is being assailed by many in the interests of catholicity. Whether the 
assailants act wisely or kindly in that matter, or not, is an open 
question. It is a course of doubtful catholicity to raise a popular cry 
against a most valuable body of people, who honestly defend and 
consistently go through with, what they deem an important principle ; 
and more particularly when they have some little internal embarrass- 
ment on the subject. Our love for the brethren should include, surely, 
the Baptist brethren. 

' Charity suflfereth long and is kind.' And it is doubtful if, consid- 
ering the lengths to which liberal ideas have been carried in the 
country, there be not some gain to the community as a whole from a 
large denomination making a stand at a particular point, and reminding 
their brethren that there are church matters which we are not bound, 
are not even at liberty to settle according to the popular demand, as 
we should settle the route of a railroad. 

Equally candid and unusual are the remarks of 
the Interior, of Chicago, one of the ablest 
Presbyterian papers of the country : 

"We ask at the hands of our sister denominations the liberty to 
execute our own laws, to know our own theology, and to manage our 



A TRIAL OF OPEN COMMUNION. 167 

affairs, without being made the subjects of ungenerous criticism. And 
this which we ask for ourselves, we very freely accord to others. The 
difference between our Baptist brethren and ourselves is an important 
difference. We agree with them, however, in saying that unbaptized 
persons should not partake of the Lord's Supper. Their views compel 
them to believe that we are not baptized, and shut them up to close 
communion. Close communion, in our judgment, is a more defensible 
position than open communion, which is justified on the ground that 
baptism is not pre-requisite to the partaking of the Lord's Supper. 

To chide Baptists with bigotry because they abide by the logical 
consequences of their system is absurd. We think that they are wrong 
in reference to the mode and subjects of baptism, and should not hesi- 
tate to take ground against their interpretation, but we would not be 
silent about the interpretation, and then charge them with bigotry for 
a consistent adherence to their interpretation. 



168 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, 



CHAPTER Xn. 

AN OLD SORE — SECOND WIDOWHOOD. 

ON opposite sides of a narrow street in Bethany, 
lived two neighbors, who were also brethren in 
the Baptist church. They were also wealthy, one of 
them the richest man in the church. They had never 
lived in peace with each other. Their chief quarrel, 
which became chronic, was about "line fences," and 
where the water should flow, that the Lord sent in 
showers on their large landed estates. And then, 
on all the matters of common dealing, and they are 
numerous in a rural neighborhood as was ours, there 
was no real agreement. But the influence of the 
almost continued revival for four years, had kept the 
thing in check, so that no serious eruption was visible 
until 1839-40, when the thing assumed such an aggra- 
vated form that "catnip tea" or "poppy-blow leaves 
made into a poultice," would not cure or ^ven ease 
the pain. (Both the patients suffered terribly. So 
did the patience of those who had anything to do 
with them.) The whole community was cognizant 



AN OLD SOKE. 169 

of the unhappy state of affairs in the Baptist church : 
so much so that it was talked of in all circles. Men 
of the world would throw it in our teeth on the 
street and in public places. The church had made 
a number of efforts to conciliate them, and in some 
way settle their difficulty permanently. But all in 
vain. 

A medical council was held. Dr. Discipline and 
Dr. Chairman of the Committee reported the case 
incurable, and the moral constitution so impaired 
that amputation had become necessary, to arrest the 
spread of gangrene through the whole body. Mr. 
Outside said, if we did cut off these excrescences, 
we should be prosecuted for malpractice. Mr. 
World said, we cannot take them into our infirmary 
without bonds well-secured for good behavior. That 
of course we could not give, knowing the cases in 
hand. 

Thus the thing stood for months, and we were 
afraid the disease would become a contagion; and 
so we proposed to leave the situation to other 
parties, if something was not done speedily, to save 
the body by prompt surgical operation. So a day 
was appointed, and the doctors and the nurses, with 
their bandages and lint and bottles of lotions and 



170 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

all-healing ointments, came together. The patients 
came, and the operating table was brought out. As 
Man-order-of-the-day , I tried to magnify my office 
and not give offense to either the body in health or 
the affected members. The doctors had decided to 
operate on one at a time, meantime giving the other 
an opium pill. After cutting awhile and bandaging — 
the dullness of the instruments having much to do 
with his flouncing — the amputation was safely 
effected; and the night coming on, the other case 
was postponed indefinitely. 

A singular sort of delirium set in, during which 
the patient made me the sole object of his spleen, 
turning away altogether from the one with whom he 
had had such frequent and unholy conflicts. The 
church had peace as a consequence of this necessary 
action ; but I had none. Wealth and family rela- 
tions did all that could be done to make my situation 
uncomfortable, and to hinder my usefulness. 

Here it might be remarked, that the devil is more 
devilish in a Baptist church than anywhere else. 
The freedom given the individual in this Church 
fosters both the growth of the graces in true 
Christians, and develops the satanic traits in the 
human devils who creep into the fold. The most 



AN OLD SOKE. 171 

execrable specimens, most filled with unadulterated, 
cunning devilishness, of the genus Christian that we 
ever met with or heard of in an evangelical church, 
we have "seen and handled" in a Baptist church. 
The only principle on which you can account for 
the continued presence of such satanic hirelings in 
an otherwise good and peaceful and devoted church, 
even against repeated protests, sometimes formally 
made, is this from Holy Writ, that "whom the 
Lord loveth He chasteneth." 



[No Roman Inquisition is equal in diabolical inge- 
nuity of torture to these "sons of Belial" in some of 
their practices, especially invented for the destruc- 
tion of the peace and usefulness of pastor and church. 
Get rid of such characters, if they own half the king- 
dom ; and when out once, keep them out. — Ed.] 



It is said that trouble never comes single-handed. 
Just at this juncture, when this man was trying me 
with all the arts of wicked cunning, my dear wife 
sickened and died. of consumption, leaving me the 
second time in sad widowhood. We had been 
married less than three years. My children were 
yet small, and, in addition to the four left by my 
first wife, my second wife left a daughter eleven 
months old; 



172 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

In 1837, I was married to Miss Loretta M., 
daughter of Dr. Isaac Olney.* She was at this time 
a teacher in a select school at Sodus, Wayne 
county, New York. 

The following obituary was written on her death : 

Died— On the 22d day of May, 1840, at Bethany, Genesee county, 
New York, Sister Loretta M. Stimson, wife of Elder H. K. Stimson, 
in the 28th year of her age. 

In her death, Zion has lost one of her warmest friends, her husband 
an affectionate wife, and her children a careful and tender mother. 
In her case, there was a most striking exemplification of the power 
and efficacy of Divine grace, in causing the soul to triumph in the 
prospect and pangs of death. It may truly be said of her, that in 
health she was amiable and devout, in sickness patient and submissive, 
and in death peaceful and triumphant. The funeral was attended by 
a numerous concourse of people, all of whom seemed to feel that in 
the departure of the deceased they had sustained a great loss. 

The occasion was improved by Elder I. Clark, D. D., of LeKoy, in 
an appropriate and impressive discourse from Phil. i. 21 : " For to 
me to live is Christ, but to die is gain." " 

This is the second time that Brother Stimson has been thus bereaved, 
and he is now left with five small children and other dear relatives to 
mourn the loss. 

While thus sorely and repeatedly afflicted, we would bespeak the 
prayers and sympathy of the Christian community in his behalf. 



* Dr. Olney was a graduate of the medical college at Fairfield, New 
York. In the war of 1812 he was a surgeon in the United States 
army, under the command of Gen. Brown, and stationed at Sackett's 
Harbor. Soon after the close of the war, he moved to Parma, New 
York, and commenced the practice of his profession, which he followed 
until his death, which occurred in 1832, leaving his family of six 
children, five daughters and one son, to the care of his widow. Dr. 
Olney was a Christian gentleman and highly respected by all who 
knew him, and esteemed as a physician and surgeon of great skill. 
All his children became teachers. 



AN OLD SORE. 173 

Ah I dear Loretta, whither art thou gone? 

And what thy state, and who thy partner now? 
Ah I tell me, dost thou dwell alone ? 

Or with the heavenly myriads bow? 

My dearest husband, Heaven's now my resting place ; 

Joy is my state and Christ my partner here ; 
He takes me in His near embrace, 

And makes me His peculiar care. 

O. D. Taylor. 

The following lines were composed by Mrs. 
Loretta Stimson, May 13th, 1840 : 

How glorious is our God, 

Who sent His Son to die, 
That we. His creatures, full of sliii 

Might reign above the sky. 

He sends His love to me. 

In times of sorest need 
He will His good bestow on thee, 

If it of Him thou plead. 

In the autumn of 1840, by the advice of the 
ministers and others of our Association, I devoted 
the winter to labor among the churches in holding 
meetings with the pastors, and supplying destitute 
churches for a longer or shorter time. There were 
great revivals at Batavia, Attica and West Mid- 
dlebury. 



174 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER Xm. 

EVANGELIZING. PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 

SAVING resigned my pastorate at Bethany, I 
accepted a call from the church at Warsaw, 
Wyoming County, New York, and in April, 1841, 
began my pastoral work tinder the most forbidding 
circumstances I had ever experienced in eleven 
years as a pastor. They had been a large and 
efficient body, but divisions and bad management 
had reduced them in numbers and spirituality. The 
singular, unpardonable whim of having their house 
of worship a full half mile from where it ought to 
be, for the mere sake of having it on a hill, also 
operated most injuriously, as might be known on 
general principles. What with distance and bad 
sidewalks, the congregations were of course small. 
Talmage or Spurgeon couldn't have made them very 
large. The house, after you had reached it, was as 
uninviting as the walk was unwelcome, even in hot 
or cold weather. Though it had been built fourteen 



PASTOKATE AT WARSAW. 175 

or fifteen years, the interior of it had never been 
painted. When will the children of light be as wise 
in their generation as the children of this world ? 

The church had enjoyed the ministrations of some 
of the best talent in the denomination : Peter 
Freeman*, Walling, Joseph Elliott, Daniel Barnard*, 
B. Wilcox, and Abraham Annis, all good men and 
true. Two or three of my predecessors had made 
efforts to move the meeting-house into the village. 
But they always ended in bad feelings, and were the 
cause of separation* between pastors and people ; 
the south portion of the church contending for the 
old situation "on the hill where it could be seen." 

With this state of things existing, I entered the 
field. It had but one redeeming feature, so far as 
external appearances were concerned, viz : the town 
had become the county seat of the new county 
of Wyoming. In my engagement with the church, 
I suggested a new house of worship, or one in the 
village. "I am not going to talk about it, but when 
the time comes, I want you all to lift until you 
can see stars, and no flinching." 

Things soon changed "on the hill," and in the 
village. We had secured a good choir. In the 
village we had organized a first-class Sabbath school, 



176 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

and secured a good room in which to hold it and 
evening prayer meetings. And things went on that 
summer with a good degree of zeal and harmony. 
The next winter we had a pleasant revival, in which 
the church was strengthened in spirit, and an 
addition of twenty-eight new converts made to the 
membership ; and all with the disadvantage of " the 
old house on the hill where it could be seen." 

In the course of this year we had learned that one 
man stood in the way of moving the house, he claim- 
ing a moneyed interest in it to the amount of five 
hundred dollars. In a pleasant conversation I had 
with him, I got his consent to a removal of the house, 
but when the time came for him to sign the contract 
for the removal, he declined, saying that : "there was 
no need of a Baptist church in town." He had once 
been a member, but was excluded for immoral con- 
duct. In the majority of cases, it is a safe rule to 
have but little to do with excluded members of Bap- 
tist churches. They are not to be trusted. They 
are fit for "stratagems and spoils." 

A subscription was started the very hour he 
declined, nine o'clock A. m., and at ten o'clock p. m. 
we had on it two thousand eight hundred and 
twenty-five dollars for a new church edifice in the 



PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 177 

village, and in less than one year the house was 
dedicated; the best then in the town. And the 
crowning glory of all was, the church was permitted 
to enter it in a full blaze of revival work. On the 
first Lord's day after we entered our new house, six 
were baptized ; the next, fifteen, and so on for eleven 
Sabbaths in succession. 

But no sooner than it became quite certain that 
the Baptists were going to have a house in the 
village, than a difierent manner was evinced towards 
the church and pastor. We were all right when up 
on the hill, but now things were changed. The 
sweet treatment of the pastor by the other ministers 
had changed to "cold shoulder," and that without 
"bread or mustard." Our sentiments were not 
orthodox, as we did not believe in the good old New 
England practice of infant church membership, and 
sprinkling for baptism. That was a change. When 
we were up "on the hill" where we could be "seen" 
we exchanged pulpits with those in the village, but 
now it was not desirable to exchange with us. The 
Baptists had but a small congregation when they were 
worshiping on the lofty "hill." Now they had a 
large congregation, and as large a Sabbath school as 
any in the place, and composed of a class of people 



178 FROM THE STAGE COAOB TO THE PULPIT. 

as "good as the best of mankind." All that was a 
change. 

Then there were many who had met with a change 
of heart, and not a few had changed their views in 
regard to baptism and had been immersed, in obedi- 
ence to the command of Jesus. This last change 
was the provocation of a wordy war. The pulpits 
in town were like so many batteries turned upon the 
Baptist church, for changing their location and 
coming into the village. As though they had a 
religious pre-emption right to the territory of the 
town! "Up on the hill where they could be seen" 
they were permitted to enjoy uninterrupted peace. 
Some of our brethren thought we ought to respond 
to these broadside attacks of the big guns, lest it 
should be implied that we were a little cowardly. 
But we replied, "No, by no means ; God has more 
important work for us, and we ought to be contented 
as long as souls are being converted to Christ every 
day, and every Lord's day we are going to the stream 
to baptize. God is blessing us in a wonderful 
manner, and we will not be guilty of stopping the 
work by engaging in controversy. If it shall ever 
seem necessary to expose their false and unscrip- 
tural attacks, and I am not equal to the emergency. 



1^ 



PASTOEATE AT WARSAW. 179 

the church will be at liberty to dismiss me, and get 
a man who is equal to the task." 

This quieted the disposition to reply to the 
attacks made upon us, and the work continued 
under the reigning power of the Spirit until about 
June. But the war against baptism did not abate, 
for a lawyer* in the place, a man of influence, who 
had been educated for the Episcopal ministry, had 
the independence to ignore his infant sprinkling and 
former connection with that church, and had 
requested baptism as a believer in Christ and salva- 
tion by faith. The church had received him as a 
candidate for baptism, and had requested him to 
give his reasons for this change in his views. He 
consented, and the next Sunday was appointed for 
his doctrinal experience, and baptism. In the 
morning, he occupied the pulpit an hour and a half 
with a clear and searching history of sprinkling as a 
substitute for the ordinance of immersion, and his 
reasons for change of belief and church membership. 
It was a complete vindication of the Baptist 
practice. 

Soon after this, I was informed that one of the 
ministers of the place had an appointment on a 



* Hon. J. R. Doolittlej now rresideut of Chicago University, 



180 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

week day to preach at East Orangeville on the 
subject of baptism; and a convei*t invited me to 
attend and listen to an expose of the Baptist fallacy 
of immersion. He had been induced to join the 
Methodist class, and had been sprinkled by this 
Rev. Mr. Judd, with the assurance that it was 
Scriptural baptism, and he would prove it to him 
at this Thursday's meeting at East Orangeville. I 
consented to attend. 

It so happened that I went into the house in time 
of prayer and was unobserved, taking a seat in the 
back part of the room, and the reverend gentleman 
being near-sighted, did not discover that I was 
among his hearers. So he commenced his tirade 
of misrepresentation of the Baptists, with a plentiful 
quantity of abuse heaped on Elder H. K. Stimson. 
He tried to be sarcastic, but his points were too 
clumsily made and too stale to have any power. I 
sat quiet and took notes. (I have them yet.) He 
held the congi-egation an hour-and-a-half (not 
spell-bound, but by the "button"). At the close 
of this "sermon," he called upon a brother H. M. to 
pray. Now, this brother was a Methodist exhorter 
and a warm friend of mine. He knew I was present, 
and made special mention of me in a prayer, saying 



PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 181 

he " blessed God that Brother Stunson had been sent 
into that valley, and had been so successful in winning 
souls to Christ." 

All this time, Rev. Mr. Judd was peeking about 
the house to see where I was. He then called upon 
the congregation to sing : 

" A charge to keep I have." 

At the conclusion of the song, I arose from my 
corner and said to Mr. Judd, "Can I give out an 
appointment?" To which he replied, "Certainly." 
I then gave notice that the next Lord's day, at one 
o'clock p. M., I would discuss the following propo- 
sitions : 

1st. That infant church membership, with 
sprinkling for the ordinance of baptism, was a 
tradition of man and without Scripture, proof. 

2d. That the "Methodist Episcopal Church" was 
a human institution and without Divine authority. 

3d. That believers are the only proper subjects 
ot baptism, and immersion the only valid act. 

4th. That Mr. Judd had told six lies. 

If you have ever seen a hornet's nest disturbed 
by throwing stones at it, you can have some correct 
idea of the situation within those four walls. One 



182 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

good large sister approached me, saying : "Well, 
I think you are a pretty man to come here and 
charge our minister with Ijdng." To which I 
calmly replied : " Then, my good sister, you should 
have a minister that won't lie about his neighbors 
and brethren." I also invited all to attend and 
bring their Bibles with them. I returned home and 
set to work preparing for our next Sunday's 
meeting. , 

The excitement all over the couttry spread like 
the fire in the Philistines' corn, with Samson's foxes 
on the full run. I had made such preparation as 
the short time Avould afibrd. At one o'clock in the 
afternoon of the Sabbath, not only the house, but 
the streets and vacant places about the house, were 
alive with human beings. As I went in, I found in 
the doorway five clerg^Tuen : three Methodists, one 
Presbyterian and one CongTCgationalist. I found 
that the}^ had no seats, so I arranged to accommo- 
date them with comfortable places. I also took in, 
with help, a two-bushel basket full of books, majiy 
of them I had sent miles to obtain for this occasion. 
The ministers looked a little wild at the books. 

After the opening song, I called on one of them 
(not Judd) to pray. I then made the following 



PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 183 

statement : " If in this discussion to-day I make 
any misrepresentation, or false quotation of the 
Pedobaptist authors, or misstatements of any min- 
ister's words, I shall be obliged to any clergyman or 
other gentleman to call my attention to my mistake, 
and I will stand corrected, if found in an error." I 
stated the why of my appearing in a discussion. 
I had called upon a friend to read from the authors 
the quotations that I might make. 

We will not detain the reader to rehearse the 
arguments by which we sustained our first three 
propositions. Suffice it to say, we were not called 
to order by any one present, and so we concluded 
we di(i not misrepresent their position or misquote 
their authors. We came to the fourth proposition, 
and sustained it to the satisfaction of every candid 
hearer; and "Brother" Judd, then and there, 
"swallowed" three out of the six falsehoods he had 
told in the pulpit. The only apology he ofiered 
was, he "was told so." 

We occupied three hours and fifteen minutes in 
this talk, without intermission. And thus ended 
this "bloodless, wordy and watery war." About the 
only reference, to the subject afterwards, was made 
the next year by ]\Ir. Judd's successor, and by the 



184 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

way, a very clever Christian gentleman, and on this 
wise : My garden lay beside the walk on the main 
street. This brother and his wife came walking 
along one evening, just as I was watering my 
cabbages with a common watering pot. "Ah ! " says 
he, "then you do believe in sprinkling, I see, Brother 
Stimson?" "Oh, yes," I replied; "for cabbage- 
heads — it may do them good." He and his good 
wife laughed and walked on. 

During the following winter, the community was 
a good deal exercised upon the subject of "IVIiller- 
ism," or the speedy coming of Christ (time set to a 
minute) , and the destruction of the world and the 
wicked. Two prominent lecturers came into the 
place. Rev. Mr. Beach and Rev. Elon Galusha. 
The public attention was taxed with this exciting 
subject, until nothing else could gain the popular 
mind. So, I only sat as a looker-on, occasionally 
witnessing a demonstration of the subject on charts. 
We thought then, and think now, that we had no 
objections to the Lord's coming ; but we did not see 
that their figuring was exact authority, according to 
"Dayball's." We had always heard that "figures 
would not lie," and our confidence in their veracity, 
up to that time, was unbounded; but we thought 



PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 185 

then we saw them lying — at least, the only excuse 
we can discover for the behavior of the figures in 
this particular case is, that they were very unfor- 
tunate in being thrown together with such guess- 
work, by which even a cypher would change the 
whole tenor of Revelation on the subject. To say 
the least, the "exact mathematics," as applied to the 
doctrine of the "second advent," after a continuous 
effort for a generation, and the most repeated and 
signal failures, better withdraw from the field. 
Before the time for the event is fixed again, we 
suggest to those having the matter in charge to fix 
upon a "standard of time ;" and then apply their 
mathematics to the calculation of the variation for 
different localities, owing to the difference of 
latitude and longitude. The devil must fear this 
doctrine, or he wouldn't have set such "minute- 
men" to preaching it, and so brought it into such 
deserved contempt. The Bible just as plainly 
teaches that Christ is comiag the second time, 
bodily and personally and visibly, as that He came 
and was crucified, "dead and buried," and rose 
again and ascended up on high. If He ever came 
once. He is coming again. But He as expressly 
says that no man knoweth when, "no, not the angels 
of Heaven, but my Father only." To what order 



18(3 FP.OM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

of beings do these mathematical, "second-advents" 
belong ? 

But no harm came of it to our church. Not a 
single member went off with it, and not a soul was 
converted to Christ in all these efforts. As soon as 
the excitement had subsided, I called the attention 
of my people to the fact that sinners were dying all 
around us, and that whether Christ came at once, or 
a great while in the futiure, they must be saved by 
Him, or lost forever. God revived us again, and 
that spring I baptized a goodly number of youth — 
some of them exceedingly interesting cases — and 
the church was replenished with the Spirit's influence 
"to the edification of itself in love." 

The year 1844 witnessed the great Presidential 
campaign contest between Clay and Polk, and little 
could be done for religion, except simply to maintain 
the ground. The church and congregation had 
become deeply imbedded in my heart. Many of the 
church had been received by mj^self through the 
significant ordinance of initiation into the household 
of God, instituted and submitted to by Christ. But 
"God's ways are not as our ways, nor His thoughts 
as our thoughts." 

At the close of my vacation, which I had 
employed in traveling through the country in that 



PASTORATE AT WARSAW. 187 

part of the State, on returniiig home, the brother 
who had "supplied" for me mtimated that he would 
like my position, saying that "a number of the 
brethren had suggested that a change of pastor was 
desirable ; that I had been there quite a while, and 
might be more useful somewhere else." 

I said, "Very well, I vnll accommodate them." 
The next week was Covenant meeting. I wrote out 
my resignation, and at the meeting handed it to the 
clerk, with the request for him to read it at the 
close, for special action of the church at that 
meeting. He complied. There was some agitation 
in consequence. "Why, what can it mean?" One 
of the deacons moved to lay it on the table, to 
which, of course, I objected ; but all in vain. On to 
the table it went without a negative. The truth 
is, one man was a little excited on account of my 
"abolition" proclivities. For I was what they called 
a "hair-brained, fanatical, one-idea abolitionist." 

He had fooled the poor, dear, little minister into 
the belief that he could get the place, if I was only 
out of it. I was willing, if the church so wished. 
But they were so incensed they would not hear 
him again. Six weeks after, at a special meeting, 
my resignation was accepted, and I out on the open 
road to seek a new field. 



188 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

WHEATLAND. 

/T\HE church in Wheatland, hearmg that I had 
-L resigned at Warsaw, invited me to visit them 
at my earliest convenience. This invitation I 
accepted, and was settled as then* pastor in January, 
1845. In leaving Warsaw as I did, I was liable to 
the charge of undue haste — a charge that might 
frequently be set to my account. I have been 
addicted to hasty action, more or less, all through 
my life. In some instances, doubtless, great harm 
came to churches in consequence of my haste in 
leaving them. If I had not stayed with them any 
longer to speak of, but had given them a little more 
warning in case of my leaving, some injury, 
doubtless, might have been prevented. 

But, on the other hand, some of the best moves 
I ever made, I think, were impromptu — and this 
move to Wheatland was certainly one of them. I 
never had any regrets m the case, as I had in leaving 
Alabama. As soon as my family were comfortably 



WHEATLAND. 189 

settled, I began exploring my field. The church 
then covered a large extent of country, parts of four 
"towns," besides all of Wheatland, with small 
villages, Scottsville, Mumford, Church ville and 
Clifton. In each of these, I had an appointment 
regularly. The church was mostly composed of 
farmers, men of integrity, intelligence and wealth, 
and a large circle of youth who had been brought 
up to revere religion and attend the services of the 
church. A number of them were already members, 
and examples of Christian deportment. 

All these facts impressed me with the belief that, 
with God's blessing on the joint labors of pastor 
and people, a work could be accomplished to the 
honor of the Gospel and the enlargement of Zion, 
There was one thing only that acted as a hindrance 
to immediate advancement. The chm-ch edifice was 
one of the first built west of the Genesee river, and 
time had made its marks upon it ; and its architec- 
tural construction was not in keeping with modem 
ideas. To many of the members, as well as to the 
society, it was distasteful — ^high, deep galleries ; 
seats with high, straight backs, with a sharp rib 
called a railing, and a lofty pulpit, with a long 
stairway coming up both sides into a little box with 



190 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

a board seat, the whole as large as a common bureau 
when the doors were shut. Two common-sized 
ministers would fill it full. 

The church was organized in 1811, and had been 
under the pastoral instruction of some of the ablest 
men in the denomination. Elder Solomon Brown, 
the first pastor, died in 1813. E. Stone was with 
them four years. Aristarchus Willey, Horace 
Griswell, John Middleton, Daniel Elbridge, Gibbon 
Williams, who was my immediate predecessor, 
completed the list of their pastors — choice men and 
gifted, and some of them highly educated. 

One fact is worthy of notice. This church had a 
practical system of management by which they 
conducted all then- finances. They were never 
perplexed with any old, long arrearage. Then- 
church book was as complete as an}' business man's 
ledofer. At the end of each year they knew to a 
cent what they had paid out, not only for home 
expenses, but to the difierent benevolent objects of 
the day. It was under the supervision of the 
deacons of the church. All moneys passed through 
their hands. I was surprised, at the close of my 
first year, when the deacons called to settle with 
me, to find that everj^ cent paid to me was on their 



WHEATLAND. 191 

book, and the exact amount due, wliicli was two 
hundred and sixty-three dollars and twenty-seven 
cents, was on hand with which to pay me. A thing 
that had never happened to me before in fifteen years 
of ministerial life. 

Everything was done by equality. One was not 
eased and another burdened, as m too many of our 
chm'ches. The two acting deacons worked together 
in perfect harmony. Deacon Jirah Blackmer was 
church clerk, and had been from the beginning, 
more than thirty-five years. Deacon Charles 
Tenney was collector, always heading the list in 
every good work. The senior deacon, Kawsom 
Harmon, had become aged and had retired from 
active responsibilities. He was a man of great 
natural force of character. His ])ugle-voice was 
yet heard in prayer and exhortation. A few, that 
spring, were converted and added to the church. 

In June, after a long consultation and mutual 
agreement, we entered into a remodeling of the 
church-house, at an expense of seventeen hundi'cd 
dollars. The contract was let. The work was 
nearly completed, and we were in anticipation of 
entering the house in a few days, when, one morning 
about three o'clock, while all in the neio-hborhood 



192 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

were sleeping, the cry of "Fire! fire!" was 
heard ; and lo I our new place or worship was all 
in flames, and before daylight, all in ashes. The 
evening of that day had been appointed for a 
donation visit at the parsonage. It was a sad 
gathering of all the church and society. In spite 
of the depressing circumstance, they brought 
generous offerings to their pastor, amounting in all 
to one hundred and ninety dollars. 

At this donation visit, a society and church 
meeting was arranged for the next evening, to take 
measures for rebuilding. There was perfect unity. 
Their motto was, "The God of Heaven, He will 
help us ; therefore, we His servants will arise and 
build." The next Lord's day, I preached from 
Isaiah Ixiv. 11 : "Our holy and our beautiful house, 
where our fathers praised Thee, is burned up with 
fire, and all our pleasant things are laid waste." 
The money was soon raised to construct and 
complete a new house. 

This year we were quite disconcerted in our 
Sunday school and congregational meetings, for a 
convenient place in which to meet. But God was 
in it all, disciplining the church for greater work 
yet to come. The eighteenth of the next November 



WHEATLAND. 193 

the new house was entered, the Eev. Whitman 
Metcalf, of Brockport, preaching the sermon. In 
the evening, the Eev. N. Murdock, D. D., of 
Albion, preached. There were already manifes- 
tations of the Divine presence, as the church held 
days of fasting and prayer prior to the opening of 
the new edifice ; and yet there were no conversions. 

That winter, I was engaged, with others, in the 
Monroe Association, to raise a large amount to help 
meet the deficit of forty-three thousand dollars in the 
treasury of the A. B. M. Union. We had three 
meetmgs — one in Rochester, one in Wheatland and 
one in Mendon. Rev. Alfred Bennett was invited to 
be present and preach at the meeting in our church. 
After the sermon a collection was taken up, 
amounting to five hundred and sixty-six dollars. 
I felt relieved ; and I believe the work of replen- 
ishing the treasury that year was finally accomplished. 

The tenth day of March following, light from 
above broke in upon us. Sinners became alarmed, 
and the cry was heard, "What must we do?" Men 
and women of age and standing, youth and children, 
were seen flocking to Zion's gates, ''as clouds and 
doves to windows." Our meetings continued day 
and evening from the tenth of March to July. For 



194 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

thirteen Sabbaths we visited the pools of Zion to 
baptize rejoicing converts to Jesus, their new-found 
King. The Spirit of reclamation went over the 
land like sunlight and shower in May. Old hopes 
were renewed in the Spirit, and persons who had 
grown gray in neglect of God and salvation had 
now a family altar. Young men would call me up 
at midnight, to pray for them and direct them what 
to do. There was not a dog to move his tongue, 
except one. The Be v. Mr. Ashman, of Riga, 
pastor of the Congregational church, became quite 
incensed because a number of his people had called 
for letters, in order to be baptized and join our 
church. He said, on one occasion, that "Nobody 
but the rahhle would go to see these Sabbath- 
breaking immersions ; and I feel it to be a grievous 
wrong to grant letters to any member of our church 
to join a church that will not admit us to the Lord's 
table." This so offended the better portion of his 
church that he was summarily dismissed. He went 
back to New England to get refreshed. In the 
course of the work we received fifteen from the 
Pedobaptists ; and I could not feel myself to blame. 
Thus the year 1847 closed, with the church 
greatly enlarged in spirit and in mimbers, having 



WHEATLAND. 195 

• 

doubled its membership and also its ability. It was 
their custom to increase in ability in proportion to 
numerical increase ; if not in giving ability, in doing 
ability. A donation visit was made to the parsonage 
every winter by members of the church and congre- 
gation. The time for it had come and the day was 
set. The invitations had been sent out. The usual 
order was for the older folks to come in the afternoon, 
and the younger to come in the evening. But, on 
this occasion, it seems it was a concerted plan 
among the younger people to come in the day also, 
and then make the older people stay in the evening ; 
and it worked like a charm. Each district in the 
parish tried to outdo the others. On one four-horse 
load of hay that drove up, were, besides ten or 
twelve men and womeuf the following articles, good 
to read over : fom- barrels of apples, two barrels of 
flour, ten bushels of oats, fifty pounds of dried 
meat and butter, in addition to turkeys, chickens, 
cakes and pies by the dozen. It is needless to 
mention that it took four horses to draw this loadv 
It came from "Palmer street." One woman threw 
up her hands as it approached, saying: "There 
comes all Palmer street, and it has outdone us all." 
Our donation receipts footed up on this occasion to 



196 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the considerable sum of two hundred and sixty-five 
dollars. Donation visits are not very bad things to 
receive occasionally. 

The next spring I held a meeting of days in 
an out-station called "Harman's Burgh," now 
Clifton. The Kev. J. B. Olcott and the Eev. H. 
Daniels came to our assistance, and rendered most 
valuable service. In that neighborhood, twenty- 
eight were added to the company of the disciples in 
that village. 

This year I attended commencement at Hamilton. 
I had attended before when it was a simple seminary ; 
but now it had become a "University." This was 
the first occasion on which they had ever conferred 
honorary degrees, a ceremony I had never witnessed. 
The first man to receive this was our warm friend, 
Rev. Pharcellus Church,^ then pastor of the First 
chiu-ch in Rochester. The duties of conferring the 
weighty affair devolved upon Dr. A. C. Kendrick, 
then one of the Hamilton faculty. I supposed he 
would converse about the matter in English; but 
when he began, I soon saw it was all "ash dod" to 
me. (I was told that he chose to converse in 
Latin.) As soon as all was over, I started off in 
the stage for home. Arriving in Rochester before 



WHEATLAND. 197 

daylight, I proceeded at once to Church's residence, 
and rung the bell. He came to the door in his 
night dress, and asked, "Who's there?" "It's me," 
I replied. He opened the door, and I caught him 
by the hand, muttering, " Juck, dio postate pulanto 
dignite, fortunate vis to dogme ito Pharcellum 
Churchum." "Why, Stimson, what is the matter 

with you? Are you crazy, or are you dr ?" a 

condition I had not been in for twenty years and 
more. I replied, "I have made you a doctor of 
divinity.'' The daily paper was just ready to go to 
press, and I slipped down to the Democrat office and 
had the fact inserted in the news column. When he 
saw it in print, he regarded it as official. 

The Monroe Association was one of the most 
efficient religious bodies in the western part of New 
York. It was composed of a class of ministers 
godly and efficient — Rev. P. Church, of the First 
church, Rochester; Rev. H. Davis, Second church, 
Rochester; Rev. Z. Case, Ogden; Rev. Jonas 
Woodward, Webster ; Rev. A. C. Kiugsley, Parma ; 
Rev. Martain Coleman, Bergen ; Rev. Whitman 
Medcalf, Brockport ; Rev. J. B. Olcott, Grece ; 
Rev. A. Annis, East Mendon; Rev. H. Stanwood, 
Rush. A number of the above are still living, 



198 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

some at an advanced age, while others still have 
"gone up higher." 

About this time some dissatisfaction began to be 
manifest about the management of our educational 
matters at Hamilton. Friends in the East and West 
were beginning to make an effort for its removal to 
Rochester. In all good faith I joined in the general 
movement, and spent much of my time and exerted 
all my influence to secure that end. Bad blood was 
stirred up on both sides, and many things said and 
done that we have repented of. I hope God has 
forgiven all concerned. I think He has one poor 
sinner at least. I went into it as I go into every- 
thing else : to conquer. The result has been greatly 
favorable to the denomination at large. Rochester 
University is a verity and a power, with a theological 
seminary that no denomination need be ashamed of; 
and Hamilton in all its departments is a better 
institution than it would have been, had it not been 
stirred up with the "long pole" of rivalry. It is 
my constant prayer — God fill our land with educated 
ministers. I value education as a jDOor man does 
money : I feel the want of it. I sincerely pity any 
young man who attempts to preach the sublime 
truths of the Gospel of Jesus without at least a 



WHEATLAND. 199 

common English education. He ought to have, in 
this day of advance in all the sciences, a complete 
course in the best schools of the land. 

When I look back over forty years of work, and 
reflect what I have gone through by way of self- 
mortification, and then how I have shamed the dear 
Church of God by my bad pronunciation and worse 
grammar, I have said, "If I were to spend my life 
over again, I would give at least five years of that 
time, no matter how old I might be to begin with, 
to securing the best preparation for my work within 
my reach." I think the council that ordained me 
would have done a far better thing in resolving 
themselves into an educational conference, and then 
called on the church, or churches, to have sustained 
my family and let me go to school ; or set me at 
work at my trade to secure the means to support 
them, and then started me on my course of study. 

I saw my need of education the first time I ever 
went into a pulpit to preach. While I lived in 
Rush, and had only just begun to talk in neigh- 
borhood gatherings, the pastor at Penfield wished to 
be absent a Sabbath, and sent for me to supply his 
place. I foolishly consented. Penfield was one of 
the most intelligent congregations in the Monroe 



200 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Association. So Sunday morning I took my horse 
and drove over fourteen miles; got there just in 
time for the morning service. The brethren met 
me kindly, as they all knew me, and some had 
known me before my conversion. I went up into 
the pulpit as I imagine a man would ascend the 
gallows, and took my text in Psalms xxxiii. 4 : "For 
the Word of the Lord is right ; and all His works 
are done in truth." I had given the subject some 
little thought, in my way of thinking, and got 
through better than I expected to when I began. 
So the devil suggested, "Hiram, you can beat that." 
So in the afternoon I took my text from Hosea x. 12 : 
"Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy. '» 
I had not proceeded far, when I used a common 
word among stage drivers to express nothing^ so I 
said, "You can't get a hooter out of them." There 
was a Dr. C. in the congregation, who was looking 
me full in the face with interest, and I have no doubt 
now, with anxiety. As the word hooter came out, 
he buried his face in his handkerchief, and laughed 
till he shook all over. I stopped, ashamed and 
confounded, and holding up my hands, said, "Be 
dismissed," and pronounced the benediction. I went 
straight to the barn, got out my horse and started 
for Kush. 



WHEATLA2sT). 



201 



Fourteen years afterwards, when I was pastor at 
Warsaw and Rev. Daniel Barnard was pastor at 
Penfield, he proposed an exchange. I arrived at 
Penfield on Saturday, and called on Joseph Case, 
with whom I was to lodge. While he was in the 
barn, taking care of my horse, the deacon said : 
"Well, Brother Stimson, I am glad to see you. I 
hear good things about you. They say you have 
got to be quite a preacher, and are doing a wonderful 
sight of good. I suppose you won't say ^^hooter'^ 
to-morrow, will you?" I was half a mind to 
hitch up my horse and go straight home. The 
^^ hooter" was still after me. Fourteen years had 
not obliterated the little word ^'hooter.'' 

Pardon this digression, and I will retm-n to the 
narrative of my experience at Wheatland. 

While the controversy was going on in regard to 
the University, and the prospect grew brighter of 
having it established at Rochester, a proposition 
was made to raise an endowment fund of one 
hundred and thirty thousand dollars ; and after an 
effort had been made in the city, the next place that 
was expected to "lift" was Wheatland. Rev. Dr. 
Church, Deacon O. Sage and John N. Wilder, by 
my invitation came up, and in less than two days 



202 FliOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

they raised over seven thousand dollars. I think 
this was the largest subscription from any country 
church in the State. While they had the wealth, 
they also had the disposition — a consideration still 
more important. They believed in education. 
They sent their children to the best schools the 
countrv afforded. 



ADRIAN. 203 



CHAPTER XV. 



ADRIAN. 



IN 1849, the church in Adrian, ISIichigan, sent me 
an invitation to visit them. I went and spent a 
month or more, and gave them encouragement that 
I might accept their call to the pastorate. I came 
home with that expectation, and did resign ; but my 
church delayed action in regard to it until the 
small-pox had broken out in town, and my o^^^l 
family were afflicted with it. And for six long 
weeks all communication was closed. No meetings, 
except those occasioned by the funerals. Indeed, 
every day seemed like a constant funeral. As soon 
as we came together as a church, a memorial was 
handed me asking me to withdraw my resignation, 
signed by a long list of the best members of the 
church and society. I complied, and went to work 
as before. But, in the spring following, the church 
in Adrian renewed their call, and I accepted. In 
July, 1850, I moved to Michigan. 



204 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

This was a sorrowful year to the family. One 
of our dear children sickened and died, in less than 
a month after our arrival, of a disease superinduced 
by the small-pox while at Wheatland. Soon, the 
other children were attacked with the chills and 
fever common to that climate. And then came my 
turn. I was seized as if by an armed force. So, 
out of the fifty-two Sundays of the year, I was only 
able to attend church thirty-three, and then with 
more shakes than Gospel. 

The church had just closed a long series of 
meetings, under the supervision of that extraordinary 
man of God, Morgan Edwards. Already about 
two hundred had been baptized into the fellowship 
of the church, and the first Sabbath after I arrived 
I baptized twenty-four more. Thus the church had 
a mushroom growth from about one hundred to 
about two hundred and fifty ; and the man who had 
led the vanguard had left the forces scattered and 
without a leader. All classes were thus gathered 
into the church, without much system or unity of 
belief. Of course, we do not blame Brother 
Edwards. It was not his place to systematize and 
educate. Some of the converts had not been near 
the church after being baptized, and did not intend 



ADRIAN. 205 

to come. All they wanted was to be baptized. 
One man, who had been received, came to me and 
wanted me to sprinkle his children ! He intended 
to have it done before he left "Hingland," but had 
neglected it. "But," I said, "your children are not 
believers, are they?" "No, indeed they are not; 
and that is why I want them christened. Me and 
my Bettie, ye know, were christened hinto the 
Church of Hingland, ye know, and then we were 
come to Hamerica, and have been baptized by 
Brother Hedwards. Now, we's want our children in 
has good standing as we are." It was with great 
difficulty that I could make him understand the 
nature of the ordinance of Christ's house — in fact, I 
did not explain it to his entire satisfaction, for he 
and his "Bettie" went and joined the Methodists, 
who would accommodate them to almost anything 
they wanted in a so-called religious way. They 
doubtless felt far more "at home" among the 
Methodists. We felt relieved. This was an extra- 
ordinary case ; but many were singularly, if not 
similarly, affected. 

It was here the story was started that I ran horses 
at a State fair. It grew out of the fact that I had a 
good horse and carriage at the time the State fair 



206 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

was held at Adrian, that I had brought with me 
from Wheatland. The animal was well broken and 
thought to be the best of any in the community, 
and I was invited to "enter" him for a prize. I 
agreed to, and before the fair came off I trained my 
little boy, fourteen years old, to drive. The horse 
needed no training. I told the boy to just sit up 
straight and mind his own business, and pay no 
attention to others. I thought he was trained all 
right, and I could trust him to enter the ground 
with the horse and carriage. The time came to 
exhibit this sort of property, and the boy drove into 
the grounds with a long list of others. But the 
cracking of whips and the rattle of wheels scared 
the boy, — not the horse, for it hardly knew what 
a whip meant. The fear he was under caused hmi 
to drive over the chains, and I saw that something 
must be done to redeem tliis mishap, or I should 
lose the premium. So, a friend, Mr. S. W. W., 
said: "Elder, you go, drive your own horse." I 
did so, and of course took the first premium for the 
best-trained horse in a single carriage. 

In a few days, one of our Adrian merchants went 
East and fell in company wdth two clergymen of 
my own denomination, who inquired very curiously 



i 



ADRIAN. 207 

about me. He replied: "Oh, yes; I know him 
very well, and a very clever fellow he is, too. He 
has just had a streak of good luck." "Oh, indeed !" 
says one of the ministers; "in what way?" "Oh, 
he won five hundred dollars at a horse race !" ^^At 
a horse-7^acef" inquired my dumb-founded friends. 
"Yes, at a horse-race. I was there, and saw it 
myself." The story went all over the land as on 
the wings of the wind. The merchant has had 
many a hearty laugh over it at my expense. This 
is my first and last experience with agricultural 
horse trots. If it was so then, it is certainly so 
now, that one can't participate in them with horses, 
in any way, and not run great risks of losing his 
good moral reputation. 

I saw that the condition of things was such in the 
church at Adrian that it would take years to get all 
into good running order. Careful discrimination was 
necessary between the "chaff and the wheat." Many 
that had been brought into the church under the 
great religious awakening, were genuine Christians, 
and evinced an earnest disposition to live godly 
lives, but they needed instruction, and constant 
watching for a time. Others, of whom we stood in 
some doubt, might in time be saved to the church, 



208 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PUT.PIT. 

and be made of some value to the cause. Others 
still, if saved at all, would have to be saved "so as 
by fire." So all the next winter the pastor and 
church toiled to effect a healthful "circulation" in 
the extremities of the patient's system. But there 
was an organic disease that neither "cholagogue nor 
quinine" could reach — intermittent chills and fever, 
day chills and night sweats. These bid fair to bring 
on quick consumption. To individualize the figure 
a little, many had become so prostrated already, that 
they could not say "Shiboleth," one of the last words 
given up. A patient is very sick that can't speak 
this ; and very well, that won't speak it. Some of 
the members had become ritualists. They didn't 
read off their part in the covenant meeting, but 
committed and repeated it. "I hope you will pray 
for me, that I may hold out faithful, and when I die, 
that I may meet you all in heaven" — about as much 
evidence that a man is a disciple of Jesus, as looking 
out of the east window in the morning is, that he is 
a Persian fire-worshiper. 

But, there were some old staunch men and 
women, and a number of young people, who, like 
Caleb and Joshua, were bound to stand by the 
truth ; who loved the Church and its ordinances, and 



ADRIAN. 209 

felt themselves bound to see the body restored to 
its former health and efficiency. Among this 
number was a Mrs. M., a very intelligent and useful 
body, the wife of a lawyer who had been a man of 
some importance in the State. But he had become 
so dissipated and lost to respect that he had lost 
place and power as a politician, and was a kind of 
"hanger-on around town," getting his liquor where 
he could sponge it. One of our brethren said to 
him one day, "Squire M., why don't you go to 
meeting with your wife and hear our minister?" He 
straightened himself up, and in a pompous manner 
said, "Well, Mr. W., I will tell you. When I 
go to church I want to hear a man preach who has 
not been a stage driver, and never was drunk," and 
then set up a hearty laugh at Mr. W.'s expense. 
Some one who heard this conversation and was quite 
indignant at it, came and told me about it. A few 
months after, one Lord's day morning, there came 
into the house of God, this same Squire M. and his 
mfe, his face all radiant with poor whisky. His 
eyes looked like worn out button holes. I was 
discoursing that mornmg from the words : "As ye 
go, preach." I was enforcing the importance of all 
preaching, and preaching everywhere, by example, 



210 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

character, and conversation. "It isn't all in all that 
you should be learned or eloquent. The first dis- 
ciples were poor, and mostly illiterate, but they 
preached pretty efiectually. Suppose a man has 
been a shoemaker, a poor sailor, or a stage driver ; 
when he is sober and in his right mind, can't he 
preach, and do as much good as a miserable, drunken 
lawyer?" 

The sensation all over the house was apparent. 
All eyes turned involuntarily towards Squire M. 
The next day he met brother W., and said: "W., 
that was a home thrust your Elder gave me yester- 
day, and my wife thinks it is good enough for me. 
I kind of like the fellow. I believe I'll come and 
hear him again. He is not afraid to speak what he 
thinks." 

The continued sickness in our family, and my 
own imperfect state of health, with the vast amount 
of pastoral care demanded in this church, induced 
me to consider a call I had received from the church 
at Penn Yan. Our "anniversaries" met that spring 
in Boston, and I was advised to take a trip East, in 
company with my physician, John Cadman, and 
attend the Boston meetings. On my way home, I 
called at Penn Yan, and spent two Sundays. The 



ADRIAN. 211 

church had been without a pastor some months, and 
were quite desirous of the speedy settlement of a 
pastor. 

After my return home, I laid the matter before 
the church at Adrian, and resigned, after a short and 
trying pastorate of one year. But little had been 
done for the conversion of souls, most of our efforts 
having been put forth in behalf of those who were 
in need of greatest care and nursing, and to save the 
church from shipwreck ; — all under the distressing 
influence of chills and fever. 



212 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PtHLPIT. 



CHAPTEK XVI 



PENN YAN. 



/TV HE Baptist church m Penn Yan stood high 
-L among the churches in that part of the State as 
an old and efficient body of Christians, numbering 
at the time three hundred and twenty-eight. They 
had not enjoyed a revival for a long time, and had 
now been destitute of a pastor altogether too long. 
Formalism had eaten out some of the joy of salvation 
from their hearts. But they were a united people, 
and believed in every good work, and in love to all 
mankind. K the temperance reform was to be 
pushed, they were ready. K "abolition" was to 
be agitated, they were found in the front rank. 
They believed in the largest liberty, and in the 
highest state of religious life. Grod was with them, 
and in them. During the first summer, about all I 
could do was to encourage the young, comfort the 
aged, and marshal the forces for a future onset upon 
the powers of darkness. This latter work, we 



PENN YAN. 213 

think, by divine grace we succeeded in accom- 
plishing. 

Many ministers make a failure on this point. In 
time of declension they talk and preach depressingly, 
and so make depression more oppressive. What 
would we think of a man in dark and cloudy Aveather, 
who should come out upon his door-steps and begin 
to lament in this manner : "Dark day ! a very 
d-a-r-k d-a-y, r-ar-i-n-y and c-o-l-d. We are 
g-o-i-n-g to h-a-v-e a s-t-o-r-m-y n-i-g-h-t. We 
s-h-a-n-t r-a-i-s-e o-u-r b-r-e-a-d t-h-i-s y-e-a-r. 
I n-e-v-e-r s-a-w t-h-e 1-i-k-e in all my e-x- 
t-e-n-d-e-d e-x-p-e-r-i-e-n-c-e . T-h-e-r-e-'-s n-o 
u-s-e of t-r-y-i-n-g." Any common-sense person 
would say he was sick with the blues. So far as he 
had any influence over his neighbors, it would be 
injurious. 

I consider this contmual croaking in the church, 
and the fault-finding spirit, productive of the very 
evil which it is intended to overcome. Come out 
with a good sermon on "Hope thou in God." Get 
the people to look away from themselves, and exalt 
the Lord in their hearts. Get them mto the habit 
of taking cheerful views. In a covenant meeting, 
where croakino: and mournino- were the order of the 



214 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

day, an old lady, the last one to speak, arose and^ 
said. "Why, brethren and sisters, you distress me. 
Jesus is the same yesterday, to-day and forever. 
His promises will not fail. Don't let us any more 
entertain each other with this kind of cold victuals. 
I always set the best I have in my house before my 
company, and when I am alone, I eat the crusts in 
silence, thanking God for the warm meals I have 
enjoyed." This little talk of the aged sister enth-ely 
changed the tone of the church ; the minister felt 
relieved, and he and his people changed all their 
social religious habits, so that God renewed them. 
Early in September, I began to apply the truths 
I had been preaching during the summer, and to 
increase the number of our prayer meetings from 
one to two, and then to three a week. Instead of a 
sermon on Sabbath afternoon, we often turned it 
into a conference talk, the meeting taking this turn 
naturally, and not by previous notice. Never* 
advertise any such change, nor be afraid of taking 
the liberty of making it. This was like the "nine 
and twenty knives," spoken of in the Scripture. 
By October the church was in a good working con- 
dition, and it was plainly to be seen that a change 
had come over the spirit of their dreams. Family 



PENN YAN. 215 

altars were reconstructed. Old heart-burnings were 
healed. The frivolity of the youth had given place 
to sober thinking and prayer. Men of the world 
were becoming more attentive in the house of God. 
By November, we were "protracting" our meetings, 
and hardly knew how or when the extra interest 
began. I think it often gives the devil a favorable 
chance to rally his forces and oppose, to adveiiise 
long beforehand the intention of the church to hold 
extra meetings. Things went on in glorious majesty 
for ninety-seven days and nights, and there was not 
a dog to yelp against it. Sinners were constantly 
pressing to the inquiry meetings for advice and 
prayer, and the outlet of the beautiful lake was 
visited every Sabbath to introduce the new-born 
souls into the visible kingdom of the Captain of 
their salvation. 

And now came the tug of war. A number of the 
youth that had been in the habit of attending the 
Congi'egational church, and some of the members of 
that church, came into this work. Some were 
converted, some were revived, as the case might 
be. As soon as they felt the need of a higher stand 
in religious living, in the simplicity of their hearts 
they went to their pastor, the Rev. Mr. C. for 



216 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

instruction. He inqaii'ed of them where they iirst 
began to be exercised on the subject. They told 
him, "in the meetings at the Baptist church." 
"Well," said he, "my advice to you, my young 
friends, is to keep away from those meetings. We 
never had any such meetings down in Stockbridge, 
in Massachusetts, where I came from. And I 
understand that Elder Stimson has been a stage 
driver and a hard case, and used to get intoxicated 
and turn over the stage ; and my impression is, that 
he will upset the Baptist church, and have them all 
in the mud before spring. Your best way is to 
come to our regular meetings, and let Stimson and 
the Baptists quiet be." 

This was a poser to the unsophisticated youth. 
These young folks came into our next young 
people's meeting, and one of them, my son, a lad 
sixteen or seventeen years of age being present, 
asked a Baptist friend, with surprise : "Was iVIr. 
Stimson ever a stage driver ? " To which he replied : 
"I suppose he was." He told what Rev. Mr. C. 
had said. When seeing my son, they begged his 
pardon and the interview closed. But my boy could 
not forget what he had heard. He came home and 
inquired : "Father, have — ^you — ever — been- 



PENK YAK. 217 

Stage driver?" "Yes. Why? What of it?" He 
related the conversation at the meeting. 

The next Sabbath, I gave the reasons for coming 
to that place to baptize, mstead of administering the 
ordinance with a little water in the house. And 
this was all I said. The next Tuesday, I met Mr. 
C. in the street, and after recognizing me, he said : 
"Mr. Stimson, the clergymen of the village held a 
meeting at my study this morning, and having 
heard what you said at the water last Sabbath, we 
have concluded not to extend to you the courtesies 
of the ministry any longer, and I was appointed a 
committee to inform you of our decision." "/ntZeec?," 
I replied ; " What have I said, and who is your 
informant?" "Well," he said, "it is on the street, 
and I will not extend our conversation any further. 
Good day, sir." He wouldn't tell, nor hear me tell, 
what I said, and passed along. 

In the afternoon, I met the Methodist minister, 
and asked him to explain the affair. "Oh I Mr. C," 
said he, "wanted a resolution he had written against 
yourself passed by our little meeting : and to show 
you, Brother Stimson, that I do not have any such 
feelings, I wish to exchange with you next Sabbath." 
I consented. The thing went over town like a 



218 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

prairie fire. I soon baptized five of his members 
and as man}^ more from his congregation, taking the 
three best singers out of his choir. Mr. C.*s people 
asked him to resign. He refused to do it, and they 
closed the meeting-house on Sundays until his year 
was out, when he left for the West. The revival 
continued, and extended into the churches at Milo 
and Benton. 

Dui'ing this summer, I received an accident that 
came near costing me my life. I had been invited 
to deliver a fourth of ^jTuly oration at Bethel. When 
in the middle of my talk the platform broke, 
carrying down thirty men some eight feet. I lay 
for nine long weeks a great sufferer, not expecting 
ever to preach again. After I was able to be about, 
I visited my old field of pleasant toil at Wheatland. 
Kev. Dr. W. W. Everts had succeeded me in the 
pastorate, and radical changes had taken place. The 
church had extended her enterprise in meeting-house 
building. A new house had been erected at Clifton, 
two-and-a-half miles to the east, and one at 
Mumford, two-and-a-half miles to the south. 
Churchville had already become an independent 
body and also had a meeting-house, making in all 
four congregations. The pet plan of Di*. Everts 



PENN YAN. 219 

was to have them all one church, but four congre- 
gations, he to be the pastor, and the churches to 
employ the young men from the seminary at 
Rochester to supply them alternately, in his absence 
in going from one to the other. 

To some the enterprise looked feasible, to others 
objectionable. About the time the new house was 
completed in Clifton and the one in Mumford in an 
advanced state, a decided opposition to the plan was 
manifested. He had warm supporters of his ideas, 
but on the other hand he had hearty opposers. The 
opposing sides were about equally represented by 
the leading men in the church. The determination 
to carry the opposing plans was about equally 
divided. Each side engaged in the contest to win. 
Church meeting after church meeting had been held, 
and yet the matter was unsettled. 

The Clifton portion of the church had invited me 
to be present at the dedication of their house, and 
preach the sermon. A friendly conference was also 
held at the house of Gen. R. Harman, to consider 
what means were expedient in order to conciliate 
brethren who for years had lived and worked 
together in the unity of the Spirit, many of them 
from childhood. It was then advised to organize 



220 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

two churches, one at Clifton and one at Mumford, 
as it was evident these three parties could not work 
and walk together harmoniously in the old church 
at Wheatland. 

Acting on this informal advice, these branches 
resolved themselves into independent churches and 
called a council for their recognition. The church 
at Clifton extended me a call to become their pastor, 
which I accepted. The same council which met for 
the recognition of the church, also recognized me 
as pastor. Rev. Dr. G. W. Howard, of Rochester, 
preached the sermon. This was in December. The 
next day the same council met at Mumford, and 
recognized that little band of disciples as a church. 
Sermon by Rev. H. K. Stimson, and hand of 
fellowship by Rev. Zenas Case, of Ogden. 

Thus the old hive had, within the space of a little 
over three years, produced three swarms, and all 
of them comfortably hived — Clifton, Churchville 
and Mumford. And the mother hive was no less 
determined than ever, though somewhat enfeebled, 
to gather honey, to live and let live. 

Dr. Everts soon resigned, and was succeeded by 
Rev. S. M. Bainbridge as pastor at Wheatland. At 
Churchville, Rev. J. C. Drake was elected pastor; 



PENN YAN. 221 

at Mumford, Rev. Chancy Warduer, and at Clifton, 
Rev. H. K. Stimson. The old church at Wheatland 
had given letters to all who requested, to join any 
one of the three without regard to location. One or 
two families living at Wheatland went to Mumford, 
but all the rest were within convenient distance of 
the church of their choice. 

The Wheatland church still retained some of the 
best material in the community. Deacon Jirah 
Blackmer and his family, Ira Harman and family, 
Gen. T. Brown and family, Ariel Harman and family, 
Hon. Elisha Harman and family, Sylvester Harman 
and family, Martin Sage and family, the daughter 
and sons of Capt. E. Blackmer, and a very 
respectable portion of the outside society in and 
about the town. But things did not appear as they 
used to in the days of her prosperity. The dear 
old church had lost much of its former glory. The 
large congregation tha;t used to fill the commodious 
house, had dwindled down to a small one. The 
ample contributions often made to benevolent 
objects, were now scanty in comparison. 

Here are some figures showing the Christian 
liberality of the old church in 1847-48 : For 
foreign missions, $565; for home missions, $127; 



222 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

for publication cause, $112 ; education, $150; Bible 
cause, $85; other objects, $111 — total, $1,150. 
And a year or two afterwards, they gave, while Dr. 
Everts was pastor, to the Bible Union alone, $1,000. 
The four churches altogether have not come up to 
it by one half any year since. We have not intro- 
duced these figui-es for the sake of invidious com- 
parison. It was the community in which we spent 
the happiest portion of our ministry. Dr. Everts 
and myself were, and are, personal friends. But 
aside from all personal considerations, the figures 
ought to convey a lesson. 

The church at Clifton numbered but fifty-two at 
the organization. But the Lord was with us, so that 
by the time the Association met, we reported a 
membership of eighty-three. This was the strongest 
of the new organizations, both numerically and in 
personal ability. It was composed of men of sound 
judgment, and good business habits. A number of 
them had long been steadfast workers in the mother 
church. And their children, brought up by such 
nursmg fathers and mothers as were these true 
Christian men and women, became, at least many of 
them, similar ornaments to the Church of Christ. A 
large number of these I had welcomed into the fold, 



PENN YAN. 223 

during my pastoral care of the undivided body. This 
made it very pleasant to resume pastoral relations 
with them. I knew them, and had perfect confidence 
in their piety and integrity. 

In the winter and spring of 1853-54, the church 
of which I was then pastor was blessed with a 
powerful work of the Spirit. It had been manifest- 
ing itself all the autumn and winter by an uncommon 
spirit of prayer, especially on the part of the older 
members. My health was yet feeble from my fall, 
and not being able to endure as much hardship as 
formerly, I sent for Rev. R. C. Palmer — ^the pastor 
has the right to send off for an assistant, without 
submiting the matter to a vote of the church, though 
it may generally be expedient to take formal action 
first — who was a workman that needeth not to be 
ashamed. His coming was like the "coming of 
Titus." God was with him in the power of His 
great Spirit. He resorted to no claptrap. He got 
up no furor of passion. He was not known for 
making it "easy" for sinners to become Christians. 
He poured forth the living truth of God's Word, 
showing man's lost condition, and his only hope to 
be found in Christ. A large number believed, and 
gladly followed Jesus in baptism. They were of all 



224 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

ages, from the child of tender years to men of gray 
hairs ; some of them long accustomed to overt acts 
of sin. It was a godsend to this young church, the 
stay of brother Palmer with us for five weeks, and 
the conversion of such a goodly number. 

My health had become so impaired that physicians 
advised me to submit to a surgical operation. 
Accordingly, 1 went to New York, and after six 
weeks, the most of the time passed in severe 
suffering, I was relieved and came home much 
better, and renewed in my spirit. While in the 
city, I was made the welcome guest of a brother 
and sister Hoskins, who nursed and cared for me 
as for an own brother. This was the result of a 
simple incident in Providence. A number of years 
before, while up in the Alleghany country, I wished 
to fiiid a place to pass the night, and called at the 
shanty of a lumberman, who could not entertain 
me, but du'ected me to a Mr. Hoskins, who lived 
down the creek about a mile, "close to the saw-mill." 
I hastened on, and found a snug little cottage, where 
I was hospitably welcomed and entertained. I 
found them to be earnest, humble, devout members 
of the Baptist Church. They were poor in goods, 
but rich in faith. Twenty years had elapsed. His 



PENN YAN. 225 

pastor in New York I had baptized fourteen or 
fifteen years before. While they were in consul- 
tation one day, my name was mentioned. "I know 
him," said Hoskins ; "he spent a night at my house 
in Alleghany, and if you ever see him tell him 
where I am, and if he ever comes to the city I 
wish him to call on me." They were now rich, but 
the same simple, unostentatious Christians. They 
have long since entered upon their bright reward 
in the Spirit land. Of course, my stay with them 
was as pleasant as it could be made in the midst 
of continual sufi'ering. Drs. Mott and Parker, who 
performed the operation, charged nothing, as I was 
a minister of the Gospel. Their bill would have 
been a hundred dollars. There are some advantages 
in bemg Q>poor minister after all. 

The next winter, I helped in special meetings 
with a number of churches. I was at Marion, 
assisting Pastor J. W. Osborn ; at Webster, 
assistmg Pastor Holt; then at Dansville, with 
Pastor Howell Smith ; at Parma, with Pastor T. H. 
Green, and at Rochester, with Pastor Howard. 

It was quite convenient to have the seminary so 
near as it was at Rochester. One of the students, 
Rev. J. G. Stevens, belonged to our church, and he 



226 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

helped supply my pulpit. He was a choice spirit. 
He is now with God. The four years spent at 
Clifton were not all sunshine. Death had his work 
to do. He entered our circle at the parsonage ho^ie 
and took a dear boy, who sleeps in the new cemetery 
among the sugar maples. In the church and 
congi-egation, too, death came. The young wife 
of Mr. Hosmer, a lovely Christian lady, was taken. 
Miss Phidelia Harmon, a blooming girl, who had 
just graduated from the seminary at Albion, was 
called upon to take her place among the white-robed 
above. Sidney C. Hosmer, a young man of much 
promise to the church and his dear family, left us 
for scenes of higher activity in God's great home. 
We could illy afford to lose any of these or of the 
others whom we might mention who were translated 
from the Church below to the Church triumphant. 
But the Master had need of them, and we had need 
of the discipline. It taught the younger portion 
of the church many good lessons to lose for time 
so many of their associates. 



MARION. 227 



CHAPTER XVn. 



MARION. 



^URING the fall of this year, 1855, the church 
J-^ at Marion, Wayne county, New York, had 
parted with their pastor, Rev. J. W. Osborn, with 
whom I had held a meeting two years before. They 
at once desired me to consider a call to the pastorate. 
I had miso^ivino^s about settlino^ with a church for 
whom I had previously labored in a protracted 
meeting, for the reasons that the sermons preached 
during such efforts are generally on a higher key 
than ordinary pastoral preaching. I intimated this 
to the committee. But they said it had already 
been taken into the account by the church, So 
I accepted, and as soon as I could resign and make 
due arrangements, I left my Clifton field and settled 
among them. 

I found them a warm-hearted people, liberal and 
zealous in every good word and work, and, more- 
over, quite careful about their pastor's necessities. 



228 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

We had come into the place late in the fall, and saw 
at once that little aggressive work could he done 
that season for the souls of the impenitent. The 
Congregational and Methodist churches had united 
and sent for an evangelist to conduct their union 
meetings. I was invited to come in and do the 
"police" work in the camp, while the brother 
evangelist should have command of the rank and 
file. Just at this time, I received a telegraphic 
dispatch — telegrams had not come into fashion 
then — from the Rev. C. C. Norton, pastor of the 
Sixth-street Baptist church in New York City, to 
come to his assistance at once, as a great work of 
the Spirit had begun in his church. I started that 
day. "The King's business requires haste." I was 
absent in the city seven weeks, and on my return 
found the union meeting yet in progress, but not a 
soul had been converted. The evangelist had 
become discouraged and left the place. The two 
pastors were still trying to push the battle to the 
gates of the enemy. But in their onsets, they spent 
most of their ammunition in attacking the Baptist 
stronghold. So apparent was this, that my people 
had retired from the field in good order. I called 
the day of my return at a store, and there met the 



MAEION-. 229 

two co-laboring, co-fighting pastors. The merchant, 
an old man, was an infidel. He had lived in the 
town about forty years, and had been acquainted 
with its history from the beginning. As we three 
stood by the stove, he said : "Well, gents, I am 
glad to see you all here together. I want to give 
you my advice — it's free ; and it's this : give up 
your meetings to the Baptists. I have been here 
forty years, and in all that time all the revivals have 
been held by them. Others have tried, but have 
come out just as you have. The Elder has got 
home, and he's an old war-horse. Let the Baptists 
have the field. That's all ; now do as you please, 
gents." 

That afternoon, the two ministers called at my 
study, and wished to hold the meetings in the three 
churches, including the Baptist, rotating from one 
to the other. I replied that I did not think it best 
for me to go into any such arrangement. "But," I 
added, "when you get through with your efibrt, if 
my people think it best, we may hold a few extra 
meetings." They then proposed that our church 
take the meeting on Sunday night. To this I 
consented, on condition that I was to have the 
control of it without "let or hindrance." They 



230 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

consented. So, on Sunday evening all came to the 
Baptist church. I had asked the Methodist 
Episcopal minister to preach. He took for his 
text II Samuel iv. 4, and went on for awhile like 
the man in the Bible, lame in both his feet, not 
forgetting to make a few thi'usts at the Baptists, 
and then said amen ; and we all said amen and 
amen. 

Monday evening, Eev. E. F. Crane, my successor 
at Clifton, came to my help. As he entered the 
meeting-house he commenced to sing, a thing he 
could do as few can. In the course of a few weeks, 
over one hundred were saved in Christ. Brother 
Crane staid with me in all five weeks. When he 
left for home, eighty-four had united with the 
church. As soon as the converts began to follow 
Jesus in the first ordinance of His house, these two 
loving, "liberal" clergymen were attacked with 
sectarian "fits," or rather hydrophobia — madness at 
the sight of "much water." The Congregational 
minister had to employ the "Christian" minister to 
baptize a lady who wished to join his church, but 
insisted on being baptized and not sprinkled, the 
follower of Jesus declaring that he would not "go 
into the water." It was suggested by some one 



MARION. 231 

"that it would bring on a spasm." It would seem 
as though Christ must have made a great mistake 
in one of His ordinances ! 

The church in Marion, with all their good habits, 
had one bad one. They would come late to 
meeting. The morning services were at half-past 
ten o'clock. They had a good bell, and it was 
punctual in its bland tones in calling them to the 
house of prayer. Most of the congregation were 
punctual enough ; but there were a few who were 
forever dropping in all through the worship. I 
expostulated. No good. Late attendance was a 
part of their practical piety. At length I tried this 
expedient : I took a text from Ezekiel ix. 3 : "And 
he called to the man clothed with linen which had 
the writer's ink horn by his side." I had gone on 
for five or ten minutes, and in came Brother E. 
and his wife and two daughters. I stopped until 
they had taken their seats and then quoted the text, 
"And he called to the man clothed with linen which 
had the writer's ink horn by his side ;" and added, 
"We have proceeded some way in our subject, and 
have repeated the text for the benefit of brother E. 
and his family." All looked at them, but they looked 
down. On we went again, and in a few minutes 



232 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

more, in came brother S. and his wife. We stood 
still till all was quiet, and then repeated the text : 
"And he called to the man clothed with linen, which 
had the writer's ink horn by his side," and then said : 
"For the instruction of brother S. and his wife, we 
will say that the subject is thus far advanced, and we 
will repeat what we have gone over for your benefit." 
Again we proceeded, when in came brother J., who 
heard all about the "ink horn" and all the preceding 
part of the sermon. We persevered up to the 
seventh or eighth straggler, emptying the ink horn 
upon the head of each. It was an effectual antidote. 

One thing to the credit of this town : they have 
had no grog shop in it for over thirty years ; those 
who would get drunk had to go so far for the stuff, 
that as a rule, they got sober before reaching home. 
In the village is a fine collegiate institute of high 
order, under Baptist control, and largely patronized. 
The church has sent out a goodly number of minis- 
ters who were converted and reared there. Rev. 
J. H. Morrison, and Rev. H. J. Eddy, D. D., are 
among the number. 

During this year, I visited my children and other 
relatives in Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin and Minne- 
sota. While on my journey, I fell in with an old 



MARION. 233 

friend who perpetrated a sell on me and others in the 
cars. It is generally a religious duty to tell a good 
joke. It was about the time that Blondin, the rope 
walker, was exciting the country with his exploits at 
Niagara. This friend and companion told the pass- 
engers, ^while I was absent in another car, that I was 
Blondin. When I returned, I was much annoyed by 
people flocking about my seat, and staring at me 
with an uncommon gaze. I was so much annoyed 
by it that I went into another car. But in a few 
minutes in they came like so many harjpies, filling 
up every vacant seat and even the passage-way, 
gaping at me in the same unacconntable way. At 
length an old couple came in and took a seat in front 
of me. No sooner were they seated than the old 
lady, turning around and raising her spectacles, 
peered into my face and said : " Where are you going 
to perform next?" "I am going to Chicago, madam," 
I replied. "Is you going to walk the rope there? 
If ye du, we am bound to see ye du it." " Walk a 
rope? Why, what do you suppose I am? I do not 
understand you." "Why, ain't you that feller 
what's bin crossing Niagara river on a rope so many 
times?" "No! Who said I was?" "Why, we 
heard of it all along back in these 'ere cars ever so 



234 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

many times, and we kind o' wanted to see you, ef 
you was the feller. Hope you arn't ashamed of it?" 
I saw the sell^ and went back to my old seat in the 
other car, where I found my friend shaking like a 
man with the palsy, his face covered with a 
newspaper. 

We stopped that night at Detroit. The next 
day, taking an early train for Chicago, while my 
friend was in the smoking car, I asked a young 
gentleman near me if the Hon. Stephen A. Douglas 
would make a speech anywhere on the way to 
Chicago? "Is he on the train?" asked a number of 
voices at once. "Well, that gentleman in the 
smoking car looks like him," I intimated. Off to 
the smoking car went two or three in hot haste, and 
soon retm-ned, scattering the news like wild-fire that 
Hon. S. A. Douglas was on board, returning from 
the Senate. Others went and looked. One or two 
said it was not Douglas, but others were quite 
confident that it was ; they knew him like a book. 
The resemblance was quite striking. 

We were to take dinner at Marshal, and arrange- 
ments had been made among the passengers to call 
him out for a speech. Lest I should be identified 
in the matter, I had gone and laid down in a vacant 



MAKION. 235 

seat, getting up just in time to be prepared for the 
dinner. As the train neared the station, a big lusty 
fellow jumped out upon the platform, as soon as 
the train slackened up, and cried out at the top of 
his big voice, "Fellow-citizens, ladies and gentle- 
men, I propose three cheers for Hon. Stephen A. 
Douglas, of Illinois. Hip, hip, hurrah !" Our stout, 
short friend pressed his way to the wash-room, 
followed by the multitude, crying, "A speech ! a 
speech ! Come, now, give us a five minutes' 
speech." He rushed into the wash-room and 
looked at me, shaking his head in a significant 
manner, "Sold out, Blondin; I will pay for the 
dinner." His Chicago friends heard of it, and used 
to address him as "Honorable." 



236 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XVm. 



RACINE. 



T ATE in the fall of 1857, I received an invi- 
-L^ tation to visit the church at Racine, Wisconsin, 
having the year previous spent a Lord's day there 
while on a visit among friends in that city. Having 
consented to do so, I closed my connection with the 
church at Marion, and on Christmas day arrived in 
Racine. After a few weeks' stay among them, they 
extended me a call to the pastorate. I had already 
found out that the church and society were in quite 
a divided state. The previous pastor was a resident 
hi the city, and had a large social influence in the 
church and community. He had been pastor there 
about six years, and as in all cases, he had his 
special admirers ; also those wh o were not well 
pleased with him, his administration and manner of 
preaching. This being the condition of things, he 
had resigned. I saw chat a new pastor would have 



RAcmE. 237 

a hard time of it, and so deferred an answer to their 
invitation. But I consented to stay two or three 
months as a supply, giving the church a fair oppor- 
tunity to become acquainted with me, and me an 
equal opportunity of finding them out, and of 
satisfying myself as to my duty in the case. 

After the holidays were over, there were evident 
tokens of good manifest in the church, by the 
Spirit's reviving the members to a closer attachment 
to the Master. Mutual concessions were made, and 
the impenitent were being stirred up to think upon 
their ways. Soon the city was paying more atten- 
tion to religious matters than had been the case for a 
louoj time. I beojan to think that the old animosities 
and scandal had been absorbed in the precious 
revival tide that seemed about to sweep over the 
city. It looked as if we should have a free coast 
and a fair breeze. But in this we were sadly mis- 
taken. The time Ave had set for deciding the 
question of the call had come, and that right in the 
bloom of the revival mterest. So by the earnest 
solicitation of friends we gave an affirmative answer, 
and in April went East for my family. Rev. N. F. 
Ravlin supplying the pulpit. On my return I went 
to work in all good faith, supposmg that everythmg 



238 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

was amicably settled. But as soon as the ardent 
spirit that manifested itself in the winter began to 
subside, the old scandals were revived and circulated 
with more vim than ever, if possible. I thought it 
my duty to have some of the common reports about 
prominent members investigated. But others 
thought the better way was to let it all alone, and 
it would cure itself in time. I have not changed 
my mind on the subject since. 

At a "packed meeting," the question was agitated 
whether the pastor should be sustained in his puri- 
fying process in the church, and a small majority 
voted that the scandals should be let alone. The 
next evening I was informed of the decision, and at 
once resigned. A large number of the church were 
dissatisfied, aud in a few days called for letters to 
organize a new church, to be called the "Harmony 
Baptist Church of Racine." It was organized with 
fifty-two members, and procured a hall in which to 
worship. The E-ev. N. Barrel was chosen pastor. 

I was at this time really unable to preach, owing 
to loss of voice occasioned by the lake winds. I 
was advised by the physicians to remove from the 
lake shore. Accordingly I went to Sparta, a small 
village between bluffs, in the western part of the 



RACINE. 239 

State. Here I found a small Baptist churcli des- 
titute of a pastor, and much depressed in spirit. 
The landlady at the hotel informed me where one 
of the deacons lived, and I called on him. He 
proved to be an old acquaintance of mine from New 
York. He at once suggested the appointment of a 
meeting. I tried to plead off on account of my 
health, but he insisted, and the appointment was 
made. Without going into all the details, I staid in 
Sparta seven weeks, and preached every day and 
evening ! The Lord worked wonders in the midst 
of the people. I baptized eighty-two, making a 
clean sweep in some families — merchants, mechanics, 
farmers, aged and youth. I returned at the end of 
seven weeks, much improved by my residence away 
from the lake shore. 

About this time, Mr. Goble, the missionary to 
Japan, returned to this country, and I volunteered 
to assist him and the Free Mission Society in 
raising a fund for his outfit, that he might return to 
that needy missionary field. In Wisconsin, and in 
spite of my feebleness of health, I raised nearly 
fifteen hundred dollars ; and then went to New York 
State, to present the same cause to the churches. 



240 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTEK XIX. 

RE-SETTLEMENT AT WARSAW. 

IN the course of my rounds, I stopped at Warsaw, 
where I had labored with such delightful harmony 
seventeen years before. As a result of this transient 
visit, the church gave me a call to re-settle with 
them as pastor. After duly considering the 
question — for a re-settlement is a more difficult 
question to decide than a first settlement — I 
consented. This was in 1859. 

I found the church in an altogether different state 
from the one they were in when I left them for 
Wheatland, in 1844. But few of the old members 
remained, and the church was rent with unhappy 
dissensions, that had greatly weakened their 
strength and disheartened their spirit. Yet there 
were a number of old, staunch friends of the cause, 
who were unmoved by the adverse influences about 
them. All the ministers in the Association had 
been removed, either by death or settlement 



RE-SETTLEMENT AT WARSAW. 241 

elsewhere, except Rev. H. B. Ewell, of Pavilion. 
He still "staid by the stuff;" though as pastor of 
that church, but little could be done, except to 
"strengthen the things that remained." 

The year following was one of alternate fear and 
hope. I spent the winter in laboring with the 
pastors at Wyoming, at Elmira, at Brockport, at 
LaGrange. At Wyoming, Brother A. A. Russell 
was pastor. This church had often received and 
enjoyed the Divine Presence in the salvation of 
souls. At Elmira, Rev. E. F. Crane was pastor ; 
at Brockport, Brother E. Nisbet ; and at LaGrange, 
Brother L. Brasted. 

In the midst of these revival influences, the 
mutterings of civil war were heard in the distance, 
which turned the attention of the whole community 
in a new channel. My second pastorate at Warsaw 
was not long, and was much broken into by the 
evangelistic labors mentioned. Still, I trust 
something was done in the year I was with them 
at this time. 



242 FROiM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, 



CHAPTER XX, 



LAGEANGE — THE WAB. 



/TV HE church at LaGrange had invited me to 
-L become their pastor, and in April I was settled 
with them in that capacity. No sooner had I got 
fairly at work, than the call of President Lincoln 
came over the wires for seventy-five thousand men 
to defend the country in its hom^ of peril. I at 
once wrote to two sons we had living in Minnesota 
to enlist in their country's service, urging upon 
them the importance of the sacrifice, and stirring 
their patriotism by reminding them of the Revolu- 
tionary heroes. The younger son had already 
enlisted, and was at Fort Snelling when the letter 
reached him. The elder had a family, and hesitated 
for a time, but afterwards entered the service, and 
was with Gren. Sherman in his march to the sea. 
He received a wound and came home to die shortly 
afterwards, leaving a widow with three little 
children. I expected my younger son had fallen 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 243 

with the multitude of others in the Bull Kun 
blunder and disaster ; and, although I was then at 
the somewhat advanced age of fifty-seven, I had 
resolved to take the place of my fallen boy, if the 
Government would accept my poor person. I 
wrote to the Hon. Mr. Rice, M. C. from Minnesota, 
asking if it was a fact that my son was killed, and 
telling him my determination in case he was. He 
showed the letter to some friend, and the War Depart- 
ment at once sent me recruiting orders to raise a 
company of cavalry in Wyoming and Genesee 
counties. I laid this proposition before the church 
where I had so recently settled. They gave their 
consent with a hearty good will, voting to let my 
family remain in the parsonage and to furnish them 
with a living the remainder of the year. Twenty- 
seven in the community enlisted in one week, many 
of them my own members and personal friends ; and 
in fifteen days I had enrolled over three hundred. 

We went into camp at Westfield, where the 
regiment was completed and afterwards mustered 
into the service. My men were divided up into 
one full company, of which I was elected captain, 
and part of two companies, of one of which W. G. 
Bentley was elected captain, and the rest went into 



244 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

a company of which Capt. Tozer had command. 
In a few days we were transferred to Washington, 
where we went into winter quarters. On our way 
to the seat of war, our regiment stopped for one or 
two weeks in Albany. While there, Rev. E. L. 
Magoon, D. D., presented me with a cavalry sabre, 
supposed to be of genuine Damascus steel, that 
had been in service in Oliver Cromwell's day. Its 
scabbard had long since been lost. It was presented 
on Sabbath evening in the First church, of which 
he was then pastor. The large audience-room was 
crowded in every part, my company occupying the 
front center pews. The Doctor made a thrilling 
speech, as he very well kaows how to. I wish it 
was in print. The next Sunday evening, I made an 
address in the Pearl-street church, on the subject 
of Bible Distribution, at a meeting of the A. and 
F. B. Society. The Baptists of Albany were 
sound to the core on the war question. 

We left the next Tuesday for the jfront, having 
received our commissions, uniforms for the men, 
and for the first time we went into camp in tents in 
Washington. To sleep on the ground under canvas, 
to eat without a table, made a few hang their lips 
and look a little watery about the eyes. It began 



LAGEANGE THE WAR. 245 

to look a little like war, and yet we had not seen 
blood, nor smelt gunpowder. This first night in 
Washington was an exception during our stay, for 
we soon had things in comfortable shape ; our tents 
were pitched in order and looked like a village ; we 
extemporized tables and chairs, and had little sheet- 
iron stoves. Our provision was abundant, and, as a 
general rule, good : beef, pork, sugar, cofi'ee, tea, 
rice and potatoes twice a week, and first-class bread 
all the time. We were a happy family of men for 
being away from home. 

Our chaplain had not yet come, so I occupied his 
place by the request of the oflScers of the staff. 
Respect and reverence, at least outward, were 
shown for religion by officers and men. In a month 
or six weeks our chaplain arrived, and I went to his 
tent at my earliest convenience to bid him a hearty 
welcome, and to say that I had acted as volunteer 
chaplain in his absence. I found him quite pleasant, 
and assured him that anything I could do to keep 
him in his position would be a pleasure for me. 
The next day was inspection. Out he came, 
mounted on a fine horse, with his orderly carrying 
his Bible and hymn book. The boys thought this 
was preparing rather loftily to preach the Gospel. 



246 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Inspection was about ten o'clock in the morning. 
At eleven, the religious services would occur. We 
had a full band, the most of them being Christian 
men, and had up to this time done honor to them- 
selves in aiding the worship. At the time appointed, 
they were in their places and played "Old Hundred" 
in fine strains, and then out came the chaplain, 
mounted, and with his orderly bringing his Bible. 
The congregation, rank and file, was about four 
hundred, including the colonel, lieutenant-colonel 
and, I think, all the line officers. His text was, 
"Endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ;" 
and than gave the officers what the boys called 
"Hail Columbia;" expressed what he should expect 
of them, and what they might expect of him. He 
then talked to the men as though they were a mean, 
profane set of rowdies, closing up his introductory 
sermon by calling on me to pray. I felt like saying : 
''Good Lord, deliver us!" but I didn't, out loud. 
The colonel in going to his quarters, said : "Well, if 
ever I hear him again, it will be because he can run 
faster than I can." The next Sabbath was a fine day, 
and all at service, of rank and file and all, was about 
eighty; the next Sabbath, only fifteen. This was 
the last gathering of the regiment to hear him. The 
men would not come out. 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 247 

In March 1862, we were ordered to march to 
Yorktown. We left camp in the midst of a rain 
and snow storm. By order of the colonel, I was 
to have command of the camp and the sick of the 
regiment, he also leaving in my care the commissary 
stores. We then had about two hundred disabled 
men, the measles having had quite a march through 
our camp. I was ordered to muster out of service 
all disabled men, pronounced unfit for service by 
the surgeon, and to return to the Department all 
stores on hand. I found I had a job on my hands. 
Every man who had the ear-ache or a sore toe 
wanted to go home. Some were really sick, and 
would be of no service. Others were home-sick^ 
and nothing could cure them but the sight of 
mother, wife or sweetheart. So, we took them in 
squads, day after day, to the War Department to be 
examined, and if really unfit for the service, to be 
discharged. It was amusing, not to say anything 
else, to see how lame some of them were as we 
started for the city, about two miles and-a-half off. 
Some of them had provided themselves with 
crutches for the occasion, who the day before could 
run and jump. K mustered out, they would send 
back their crutches to camp for the next squad. 



248 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

lu about four weeks I was relieved of this 
disagreeable command, and took such of the number 
as were considered able-bodied, and started for 
Yorktown, down the Potomac. There were many 
amusing incidents m the mustering-out business, 
previous to our departure. In the office, the mus- 
tering-out officer was a strong Catholic, a Captain 

, a most profane swearer, and always indulging 

his profane tongue. On one or two occasions I had 
gently reproved him, citing him to the regulations 
of the army on the subject, being positively for- 
bidden by war-department law. During one of 
these little interviews, a gentleman of my acquaint- 
ance came in and addi-essedme as "Elder Stimson." 
"Why," said the captain, "what are you Elder of?" 
My friend replied, "He is a minister of the Baptist 
Church, and highly thought of. I have known him 
as such for twenty-five years." To which the captain 
replied : "Oh, what a pity ! you ought to be a good 
Catholic, and have your sins pardoned every day, as 
we do." "Yes," said I, "and then swear all the rest 
of the time, and get drunk and fight, mixing up in 
all the brawls in the whisky shops." He never tried 
again to convert me to the "Ao?y Catholic Church. 
As we were ready to march to Yorktown, a young 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 249 

Captain Doolittle, son of Hon. J. K. Doolittle of 
Wisconsin, was standing with me at the door of the 
mansion where we had taken breakfast, when his 
father said to him: "Well, my son, be faithful to 
your duty and your country. If you fall at York- 
town, be buried there. It's sacred ground ; made so 
by the army of the Revolution and by the presence 
of Washington who defeated the British." Old 
Senator Preston King was standing by, and with a 
twinkle of the eye, said : "Yes, Henry, if you find 
yourself dead, tell them ycfur father wanted you 
buried there." This remark changed all the faces of 
the bystanders. 

This son of Senator Doolittle was a noble specimen 
of a young man. A graduate of a New England 
college, he had given some attention to military 
drill, and had been commissioned captain of cavalry 
by President Lincoln, by special order. He had 
just been appointed on Gen. Schuyler Hamilton's 
staff, and was going down to take his place. Gen. 
Hamilton and his staff were ordered to the "Army 
of the Cumberland," where Capt. Doolittle was 
taken sick, and from which he came home to die, 
respected and beloved by all who knew him. 

While we were encamped at Washington, during 



250 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT* 

the winter of 1861-1862, the greater part of our 
time was spent in drill in the cavalry tactics. Our 
colonel was detailed on a long and difficult case of 
court martial, so that the command devolved on the 
lieutenant colonel, an ambitious and austere upstart 
who had only a smattering of military science, and 
was very severely afflicted with the disease prevalent 
sometimes out of camp as well as in, known as 
** big-head." In his case it assumed a malignant 
type. I had been for a long time detailed on 
another branch of duty, and had not been as much 
drilled in marching as I thought I ought to be. So I 
got excused by the colonel and went into the drill of 
marching with the other officers of the regiment, under 
the instruction of our young lieutenant colonel, 
who "magnified" his office as much as ever a "onct- 
a-month" preacher did by "holding on" two mortal 
hours at a time ; or ever a new-fledged deacon did 
by giving his elderly pastor advice as to the best 
method of preaching, showing him a more excellent 
way. As I came out of my tent one day to fall into 
line, with my cavalry boots all polished up, one of 
the officers said, "Well, Captain, you look as nice 
as a new pin — boots all shining and white gloves on. 
The gloves may possibly come back all right, but 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 251 

those boots won't, after Lieut. H nas marched 

you through a few puddles, as he marches us every 
day. I'll bet you will be willing to make an affi- 
davit, when we come back, that the boots are made 
of Maryland clay, and that you will never put them 
on again." Our parade ground was ornamented 
with a number of little sink holes. I repKed, 
"Perhaps he will march me thi'ough mud holes, but 
I think not, if I can get around them, and I think 
I can. On we went to the parade ground, marching 
and counter-marching for an hour or two. Finally 
we were all formed into line in the form of a pla- 
toon, and after "front dress," "guide right," the 
command came, "march." After we had marched 
twenty or thirty rods, I saw right in front of me, 
one of those puddles. I said to the captain at my 
side, "File to your left when we get to that mud- 
hole." When we came to it we filed off to right 
and left. Just as we were in this harmless act of self- 
defense — at least boot defense — the lieutenant saw 
us being a little out of order, and cried out, "Steady, 
steady, there ! Close up, close up ! What kind of 
a movement is that?" Our line was again soon 
formed, and on we marched to our quarters. We 
were halted at his tent and formed into a semi-circle, 



252 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

as was his formal custom, to be dismissed, when he 
complimented the officers for the improvement they 
were making in marching. He also added, "As to 
Captain Stimson, if at any time he comes to a mud- 
hole and thinks he can't go through it, if he will 
just speak to me, I will take him on my back and 
carry him over." I doffed my hat and said, smiling, 
"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel, I have one objec- 
tion to that. We were promised horses to ride, when 
we enlisted, and I should be ashamed to be seen 
mounted on a jackass." All the officers threw up 
their caps and cheered most lustily for the "old 
captain.** Did I say all the officers? I think the 
lieutenant did not. In 1869 I met the colonel in 
Troy, New York. After making a few customary 
inquiries, and finding that I was then living in 
Kansas, he asked, "Do you ride a jackass out in 
that country?" I replied, "Not much." 

But to return to our embarking at Washington 
for Yorktown. We embarked at Alexandria on 
board the old "North Kiver" boat the "Knicker- 
bocker." It was crowded to its utmost capacity. 
We stopped opposite Mount Yernon, and had an 
opportunity to visit the tomb of Washington. The 
next morning we found ourselves at anchor at a 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 253 

place called Saint Mary's, the wind blowing a gale. 
The commander of the boat dare not enter Chesa- 
peake Bay at the time, as the vessel was not equal 
to a heavy sea. So we practiced patience forty- 
eight hours, waiting for the wind to go down. The 
first day passed pleasantly enough, especially as the 
colored people brought fresh plump oysters aboard 
and sold them for twenty-five cents a bushel. But 
the next day the bread and butter part of our 
rations was almost minus. The darkies did the 
best they could to relieve our wants by peddling 
"hoe cakes." But cold "hoe cakes" and no butter 
were hardly atoned for by oysters at twenty-five 
cents a bushel. The decks and walks of that old 
boat were covered from stem to stern with oyster 
shells, and still we were not satisfied. The Captain 
was better contented, as the Government was paying 
him seven hundred dollars a day for his boat. He 
looked as though he didn't care how long we lay 
there. It's astonishing how patient some men are, 
and also what an intimate connection there is 
between money and the exercise of this virtue of 
patience ! Job is certainly deserving of the dis- 
tinction of the "patientest man," in vievr of the 
sudden loss of his great property. It's a crowning 



254 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

virtue to "take joyfully the spoiling of our goods." 
This loss tests the nerves that connect with patience, 
sooner than does the loss of friends. Poor people, 
who have conquered themselves so as to be habit- 
ually patient, have attained to the distinction of 
sainthood in the true sense. 

On this trip, no one officer had command of all 
the men. They were in squads of from twenty to 
one hundred. Some were new recruits from New 
York and Brooklyn, and belonged to the class of 
"hard cases" in a metropolitan sense. A young 
man in command of them would have about as 
much control over them as a child would have in 
conducting a tribe of Comanche Indians on a buffalo 
hunt. Sunday morning came and found us in this 
sad plight : card playing, the singing of vulgar 
songs, dancing, swearing — ever}i;hing that was 
disgraceful and mean in the eyes of an American 
citizen. The few officers there were of us called a 
meeting in a side place, and proposed to have order 
on board in some shape. It was then proposed to 
appouit an officer of the day, whose duty it should 
be to see that things were set to rights and order 
restored. A suggestion was also made to have 
religious services at eleven o'clock. Captain 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 255 

H. Doolittle was appointed "officer of the day," with 
two assistants ; and we agreed to sustain the captain 
in his command. The captain put on the red sash 
prescribed in the army regulations, and putting on 
his sword walked out on the deck, and in a loud 
and commanding voice said : "Attention, soldiers !" 
All eyes were turned to see where the voice came 
from and who it was who spoke with accustomed 
authority. "It is ordered and commanded that all 
loud talking and all playing now cease, and that this 
boat now be cleaned up. At eleven o'clock we will 
have chapel services conducted by Captain H. K. 
Stimson, of the Ninth New York Cavalry ; and for 
this purpose, I appoint Lieutenant F. and Lieutenant 
B. to take charge of the upper deck, and Captain M. 
and Sergeant V. to take command of the cabin. 
These officers will detail a force sufficient to see this 
order carried out." The appointment of these 
subordinate officers was all arranged beforehand, 
they being present at the council meeting in the 
corner. Soon, men were busy at work clearing up 
the ship, and Captain Doolittle walked the deck and 
through the cabin with as much dignity as General 
Winfield Scott. A few of the New York roughs 
attempted to let off some of their extra steam by 



256 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

making a uoise, but a prompt intimation from Captain 
Doolittle that the first man who disobeyed the order 
would be put in irons, made them as still as mice. 
At eleven o'clock, as many as wished came into the 
main cabin, and I talked to them a little while from 
the words, "Contend earnestly for the faith once 
delivered to the saints." The day passed off with 
less turmoil than we had anticipated in the morning. 
When we got to "Shipping Point," where we 
disembarked, the green lieutenant from Brooklyn 
was much disturbed when he found out about the 
authority we had been assuming for the sake of 
order on board the boat. But it was too late to 
make any fuss about it. We justified ourselves on 
the ground of military necessity ! The next 
Tuesday, we joined our several commands at 
Yorktown. 

After we landed at "Shipping Point," we were 
invited on board the "K. S. Spaulding," an iron 
Government steamer, the head-quarters of Gen. 
Slocum. Here we remained two days, waiting for 
an escort to protect us in marching to the Union 
army, as the rebel scouts infested the wilderness 
between this landing and Yorktown. While staying 
here, I had a good chance of seeing the workings 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 257 

of the war system. Professing to have some 
regard to honesty and fair dealing, I was not a 
little shocked at some things I witnessed. 

Near by where we lay at anchor, was a cove made 
from the river, in which was a large bed of oysters, 
containing about four acres, owned by a rebel 
farmer, the main source of his support for a 
numerous family. Our troops had waded into the 
water, and by feeling with the bare feet, had robbed 
the poor rebel of all his oysters next to the shore ; 
and when these were all exhausted, had gone to the 
old man, hearing that he had two or three oyster 
boats hid away in his garret, and proposed to buy 
them at a very high price. The purchase money 
was some counterfeit rebel currency that a Yankee, 
indeed, had manufactured for such emergencies, and 
which could be bought at wholesale for about 
twenty-five cents a ten-dollar bill. It was well 
executed, and none but an expert could tell the 
difference between the two counterfeits — the coun- 
terfeit proper and the "counterfeit" of which this 
was a counterfeit. There was quite a trade carried 
on by way of disposing of this false scrip. With 
this worthless imitation of a worthless currency, 
the poor farmer was paid for his boats. In these, 



258 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the soldiers launched out into the deep portions 
of the cove, and "hooked" all the rest of the 
oysters, stripping the old man of all his dependence 
for a living, and robbing him of his boats besides. 
We called at his house and heard his story, and 
saw the counterfeit currency with which he had 
been plundered. It was sad to sit and listen to 
his tale of sorrow. His wife was from one of 
the "F. F. V.'s," and was wrought up to good 
fighting condition while the old gentleman related 
the facts of the swindle and pillage. She wished 
all sorts of iUs on the "confounded Yankees." 
If she had the power, she would "po^on the 
whole race of them, and let them lie on top of the 
ground to feed the turkey buzzards." I said I 
hoped she wouldn't do it. That this act was 
contrary to General McClellan's order I assured her ; 
and that they ought to have taken a receipt for 
the oysters, and at some future day the United 
States Government would have paid the bill. 
This so exasperated the old lady, that I acted at 
once on the maxim that prudence is the better 
part of valor, and left the house, bidding them 
good-day. We found that that system of "pro- 
tection" did not work to suij the rebels, or to 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 259 

the securing of obedience on the part of the 
federal army. 

We had a similar case at Yorktown, within two 
miles of Gen. McClellan's head-quarters. Near 
our camp was the large plantation of an old 
Virginia gentleman, who owned some twenty-five 
slaves, all connected by blood or marriage. The 
old man was a staunch Confederate, and had two 
sons in the Southern service as officers. Being 
only three miles from Yorktown, he had applied 
for protection from "vandalism" by our men. A 
guard was detailed every day for that purpose, 
consisting of six men. The thing was looked upon 
as a very desirable duty on the part of the soldiers. 
So that, at nine o'clock in the morning, when the 
detail left for the plantation, there was quite a 
strife to see who should be selected. I had a 
boy who acted as cook and table waiter. When 
it came my turn to be officer of the day, he came 
and said he desired to be detailed to serve on the 
guard at the plantation. I consented, and Orderly 
Sergeant Strong so appointed him. As he was 
leaving for his post, I asked him why he wished 
to be appointed to go and stay there twenty-four 
hours. "Well, Captain, we can get hoe cake and 



260 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

milk and other nice things there, and then we can 
instruct them darkies in some useful lessons for 
their benefit." He at once fell into line and 
marched off. 

The next morning, the old planter came into 
camp with a sorry face, and made complaint to the 
colonel that eight of his slaves had run away the 
night before ; and he wanted the colonel to order a 
larger guard for that day. It so happened that 
our colonel did not think very highly of ^^ abolition." 
He did not come into the army to fight for "niggers," 
but for the "Constitution." But he was willing to 
fight for the "niggers" in the sense of their appre- 
hension and return to slave-owners. So, he ordered 
the guard doubled. But the next day, back came 
the old planter, with the complaint that nine more 
of his "chattels" had departed, leaving only an old 
man and woman, the parents and grandparents of 
six little children, on his hands to be supported. 
The colonel heard his doleful complaint, and sent 
for me. As I came into his tent, he said : "Captain, 
what does this mean? This gentleman says his 
servants have run away. Do you know anything 
about it?" I replied: "I am not officer of the 
day. I was yesterday. How should I know 



LAGilANGE — THE WAR. 261 

anything about it?" The colonel, turning to the 
planter, said: "Well, old man, we can't keep 
niggers from running away, as long as General 
Wool is harboring them at Fortress Monroe. 

the black cusses ; the sooner you are rid 

of them, the better it will be for you." "Oh, no !" 
said the planter; "they are my main dependence. 
Who can ever do our labor for us?" "Set your 
rebel sons at work. It will do them good, and be 
much better for them than to be in the fort at 

Yorktown in this rebellion." The old 

"F. F. V." planter left the camp without saying, 
"Good morning, sir." The colonel ordered the 
officer of the day to recall the guard, and let the 
"rebs" take care of themselves and their "nicrorers."' 
It remains to be said that, in less than eight-and- 
forty hours the old man's barn couldn't boast a 
board or his fence a picket. And it was said by 
the boys, that his hen-roost was as silent as a 
graveyard. This closed up our guarding of rebel 
property. 

The whole talk was that a great and terrible fight 
was about to come off, and that at least 30,000 lives 
must be sacrificed on our side, not to speak of the 
rebel loss. The wide circulation and deepening of 



262 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT 

this horrible expectation, and the prevalence of 
typhoid fever, which was carrying off the men 
by hundreds and thousands, had then a most 
depressing effect on the courage of our troops. 
Everything looked dark and threatening to them. 

General McClellan was the "Napoleon," the chief 
captain of the American army. To lisp a word 
against McClellan, was a high crime and misde- 
meanor. The officer who dared breathe a breath of 
suspicion that he was not the greatest of generals, 
was ordered to report at the War Department at 
Washington, as was the case with Gen. Hamilton, 
and others. This idolization of Gen. McClellan, for 
a time was an American mania, and will form an 
interesting, as well as sad chapter in the future 
reliable history of the great conflict, that will not be 
written while the generation of men now livmg 
remains. In our opinion, he attained a greater and 
more sudden reputation, and on a smaller capital, 
than any other man ever has on the American conti- 
nent. The point of space he will occupy on the 
page of permanent history will be exceedingly fine. 

The order was for us to keep at work building 
causeways, so as to make an easy way for retreat, in 
case of battle. Thus things went on for a long tune, 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 263 

till one day Mr. Lowe went up in his balloon, accom- 
panied with Gen. Stoneman, to take an observation 
of the fort at Yorktown. They had ascended about 
five hundred feet, when the rebels threw a small 
shell in nearly a line shot at the balloon, bm-sting 
within a short distance of it. This was on Friday, 
about four o'clock, p. M. Sunday morning at sun- 
rise, the news was in cu-culation that Gen. Magruder 
was vacating the fort at Yorktown, and all must be 
in preparation for marching orders at the shortest 
notice. We need not detain the reader in describing 
what followed. Two days afterwards, a part of Joe 
Johnson's division of the rebel forces were overtaken 
at Williamsburgh, Va., and another small conflict 
occurred at West Point. These were only preludes 
to the great "Retreat" of McClellan to Harrison's 
Landing ; a military maneuver that well entitles its 
author to the distinction of the "Great Retreater." 
If he had only turned "right about face," and made 
provision as rapidly for hacking down into the rebel 
country, he might have anticipated Sherman in his 
march to the sea, by at least two years. He never 
ought to have fought with his face to the enemy. 
Those in front of him had nothing to fear. He was 
dangerous only to those in his rear, as the Union 



264 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

cause can abundantly testify. What a pity that the 
Government did not understand his tactics, and insist 
on his setting out on a march to the North ! But 
then it's the fate of great men to be misunderstood. 
Where is General George B. McClellan? 

The fact was that the Ninth New York Calvary 
had not, up to this time, been fully mounted or 
equipped. An effort had been made the winter 
previous to disorganize all the mounted troops in the 
army. Senator Nesmith, of California, had made a 
long and discouraging speech on mounted soldiers, 
including more ridicule than argument. Senator 
Sprague of Rhode Island, wanted a larger amount of 
artillery. These mere politicians desired to give 
shape to the warfare according to their "parlor" 
ideas. As though they knew an3rthing of how the 
campaign ought to be waged ! That our cause 
succeeded in spite of such advocates and some such 
generals, is a proof beyond question that it was on 
the side of humanity and right. The leading, prac- 
tical men wanted a larger force of mounted soldiers. 

But at this early day of the war, politicians not 
only constantly interfered with, but positively 
controlled the military movements of the men who 
were tiredly waiting to redeem their country from 



I 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 265 

its thralldom. It was not a little amusing, as well 
as a good deal provoking, to sit in the galleries of 
the Senate and see what strategy and prowess these 
brave political heroes evinced, and with what dis- 
patch they were going to subdue the rebellion and 
make "secession" bite the dust. It often made me 
think of that brave command that "marched up the 
hill, and then marched down again." These would- 
be "leaders" had more to do with keeping the cavalry 
from being mounted, and with depriving the country 
for a long time of the valuable aid this important arm 
of the service could render, than all other persons 
and causes put together. Of course they had in the 
field certain officers who were their tools. Thus the 
military field and the political field were co-operative 
in a very ridiculous, if it were not so sad a sense. 
The purpose of some of these "loyal" men may be 
discovered yet, now that the discovery will do no 
good. 

Eflbrts were continually made to induce the 
cavalry regiment to disband and enter the infantry 
service. I knew of one fine cavahy regiment, the 
Seventh New York, called the "Black Horse Cavalry," 
from Troy, that was disbanded at the beginning of 
the war. But our men disdained to be disbanded, 



266 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

and insisted on being mounted and equipped. They 
found out that they could not be forced into any 
other arm of the service against their will. Another 
fact most patent and injurious in its influence on the 
spirits and discipline of the men, was the compar- 
ative ignorance of both the colonel and lieutenant- 
colonel, of cavalry tactics. They cut a ridiculous 
figure on horseback. Of course they owed their 
promotions to political wire-pulling. So, when we 
went down to Yorktown, our men consented to be 
armed with Austrian rifles and go as an escort to 
Gen. Hunter's park of artillery. When we arrived 
at Yorktown, the men concluded that they had 
finished their mission as an escort, and laid down 
their arms, fully resolved not to take them up, but 
to hold themselves ready any moment to be mounted 
and equipped as cavalry. In this condition of things 
they remained at Yorktown without drill, the 
most of the staff officers using all their influence and 
intrigue to induce the men to be transferred to the 
infantry. 

At this juncture, I was sent to Baltimore with the 
wounded and prisoners from the battle of Williams- 
burgh, with liberty to go to Washington on a sick 
leave of absence for two weeks. It was also sug- 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 267 

gested by all the line officers and a few of the staff, 
that while in Washington I should see Secretary 
Stanton about our regiment, if something couldn't be 
done to relieve us of the embarrassment in which 
we found ourselves in consequence of the deadening 
delay. After disposing of the wounded and pris- 
oners at Baltimore, I hastened to Washington. On 
reaching the War Department, Mr. Stanton informed 
me that at General McClellan*s request, the Ninth 
New York Cavalry were ordered to Albany to be 
mustered out of service for insubordination ! I was 
surprised, mortified, indignant, and righteously 
wrathy. I denied the charge then and there as 
utterly false. I told the honorable Secretary that 
the Ninth regiment was made up of the best class of 
volunteers the State of New York could boast. 
And I added, "If the country and its officials think 
we are not needed, we can well afford to go home. 
But if it is on the charge of insubordination that we 
are relieved, we can never go home to look in the 
face our wives, our children and our fellow-citizens. 
We enlisted as cavalry, and as such, we are willing 
to remain in the service of the Government, and 
"fight it out to the bitter end," but we do protest 
against being transferred into the infantry, and thus 
break up our organization as cavalry." 



268 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

"Well, Captaiu Stimson, you better go to Albany 
and see Governor E. D. Morgan. I will give you 
leave of absence, and a pass to Albany. If you 
start this evening, you can reach Albany to-morrow 
by noon." "Thank you, Mr. Secretary." He 
ordered my pass made out, and I called on two of 
our members of Congress, Hon. A. Frank and 
Hon. R. E. Pent on, who gave me letters of intro- 
duction to Governor Morgan. The next day at 
ten o'clock a. m., I was in Albany and obtained an 
introduction to the Governor personally by an old 
friend, George Dawson, editor of the Evening 
Journal. I presented my pass and leave of absence, 
and at once made known the object of my business. 
He appeared as much surprised as I was on hearing 
it, and said, "I will telegraph at once to Mr. Lincoln. 
You call to-morrow morning at eleven and I will let 
you know the result." At the appointed hour I 
was admitted to the Governor's room, when he read 
me a copy of his telegram to Mr. Lincoln. It was 
as follows : 

"ilfr. Lincoln^ President of the United States: 

" Sir : I am informed by an officer of the Ninth 
regiment of New York cavalry that an order has 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 269 

been issued by the War Department to muster out of 
the service said regiment. I hojpe and earnestly 
request that said order may be countermanded, and 
if the Government cannot mount and equip said 
troops, call on the State of New York, through its 
proper executive, and it shall be done. 

(Signed), E. D. Morgan, 

Governor of New York.'* 

Mr. Lincoln replied by telegram : 

"jB'. D, Morgan, Governor of the State of New 

York: 

"Sir : The order to muster out the Ninth regiment 
of New York cavalry is countermanded, and the 
regiment will be here soon, to be equipped and 
mounted at the earliest possible moment. 

(Signed), A. Lincoln." 

Characteristic. No red tape. Direct. Inde- 
pendent. Eminently sensible. Hearty. Lincoln 
had a clear head ; but he had also what, in the old 
Bible language, is called "bowels," a quality just as 
important as judgment, or justice. He was no 
petrified piece of last century's wisdom, having no 
interest in "personal matters," as Sumner once 
imperiously said of himself. Lincoln had a per- 
sonal interest in "personal matters," and did not 



270 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

try to put himself above the Almighty, who cer- 
tainly interests Himself in "personal matters." 

My health at this time was much impaired, 
having had an attack of the typhoid fever while at 
Yorktown; and having a leave of absence of six 
weeks from duty, from the Secretary of War, I 
went home to see my family, then residing at 
LaGrange, New York. It was evident to my 
physician, at the end of my furlough, that I was 
not fit for active service. So he sent on to the 
Department a certificate of the facts, and I was 
granted a leave of absence for an indefinite time. 
Soon after this I was taken worse, and so continued 
for the next eighteen months. During the time, I 
sufiered a shock of paralysis in my entire right side, 
so disabling me as to prostrate my energies for the 
next two years, not permitting me to leave my 
house for that length of time, with one exception, 
and that to vote. I was taken in a carriage on a 
mattress to the polls, and returned to my dwelling 
to remain there all winter. The longest sickness 
in all my life. 

During this confinement and severe suffering, 
a few discontented persons, who had not been 
personally enriched or honored by the war as they 



LAGRANGE THE WAR. 271 

had desired, commenced a series of mean acts, 
accompanied with meaner invective against me, the 
whole amounting to the crudest persecution, being 
at a time when I was wholly unable to defend 
myself or rebuke them. In making up my 
accounts in the- enlistment of my company, I had 
intrusted the keeping of the books to two men 
who had joined the company, who were evidently 
prompted by the lofty purpose of enriching them- 
selves out of the spoils of the war. It is believed 
by some that there were other individuals of the 
same tribe of human jackalls "in the service of 
their country." These two men, in company with 
a hotel-keeper who had quartered some of my men 
and the band of musicians I had employed during 
the time of enlistment, had conspired to have mie 
indicted before the grand jury of the United 
States Court holding its session at Buffalo. 

The deputy marshal called and made a service 
of the warrant on me. But I was unable to be 
moved, and so let the matter rest. These pretended 
patriotic gentlemen were not well suited with the 
leniency of the marshal who had served the 
warrant ; and so sent off to a distant part of the 
State and got their man, a perfect Nero, to do 



272 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

their dirty, cruel work. He came into the place 
and stopped at the hotel above mentioned; and 
after getting well whisky ed-up, he got an old coop 
of a hack, and two rowdy assistants to help him 
secure his prey. Up they came to my residence, 
and bolted in with all the courage of grenadiers, 
as if to arrest some monster guilty of sedition 
and murder. With great pomp and show of 
authority, he made known the object of his visi- 
tation. I was in bed, where I had been for months. 
I was not dressed, and had not been for a long time. 
My wife and children were all amazement at this 
strange manner of address to a sick and, as they 
supposed, dying husband and father. They of 
course knew not what to say or do. I politely 
suggested that I would be glad to send into the 
village for friends to assist me. "No," he replied ; 
"I can give you all the assistance you need. I will 
have you in Albany to-morrow." My wife said : 
"Why, sir, the man is not able to be moved; he 
has not been out of his room for weeks. I would 
as soon think of moving a dead man." "Can't help 
it, madam ; he must go alive if he can, and if not, 
dead." So I was dressed and hurried into his 
rickety old hack, and driven to the depot. 



LAGKANGE — ^THE WAE. 273 

At Batavia, we were obliged to wait three or 
four hours to make connection. The news was 
soon circulated that I was at the depot under 
arrest by the United States Marshal, and the 
people flocked in to see me and proposed to become 
bail for my appearance at Court. He said he did 
not know what the bail would be, and that he 
could not and would not consent. Neither would 
he allow me to go to a friend's house, near the 
depot, and stay while we were waiting for the 
train. "No, sir." A friend then asked him if he 
would furnish me with a sleeping-car berth? He 
said he could not do it. The friend then handed 
him the money to pay for a berth, and he took it in 
my presence. As soon as the train arrived, 1 was 
hurried into a crowded car, and seated with the 
marshal and two miserable drunken rowdies of the 
baser sort. I said, "Marshal, can't you get me a 
sleeping-car?" "When we get to Kochester, I may, 
possibly ; but I can't now." It was now past ten 
o'clock at night, and I was much exhausted by 
the fatigue of waiting so long and the excitement. 

At Rochester, he secured the berth. The night 
was cold, and I suffered all the way from the 
constant opening and shutting of the doors. A 



274 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

little after daylight, we arrived at Albany. He 
procured a carriage, and then asked me if I would 
like breakfast before he took me to prison. "Yes," 
I replied; "and I have friends in the city whom I 

would like to see." ^^ Friends! Who in are 

your friends here?" I replied, "All my friends 
are not in that bad place." "Well, I will take you 
to a hotel to get breakfast, and then we will see 
about friends.'' We halted at a low, third-class 
house, and I was helped up stairs and laid on a 
sofa. I asked the porter to have the clerk call up 
where I was. He soon came, and I asked him to 
write a couple of short notes for me, as I was 
unable to write for myself. He wrote the following : 

"^n. George Dawson: 

"Dear Sie : — I am here at the Hotel, under 

an arrest by the United States Marshal. Will you 
call on me soon, and oblige, 

"Yours in bonds, 

H. K. Stimson." 

A similar one was also sent to Rev. J. D. Fnlton, 
D.D. A boy was dispatched to carry them to their 
respective addresses. While I was sipping m}- coffee, 
and attempting to swallow a little breakfast brought 
up by a waiter, in came the "friends" addressed. 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 275 

They both exclaimed as they entered: ''Why 
Stimson, what has brought you here ? we supposed 
you were dead, or near to it." I replied : "Not 
dead, and the way I came here, was by the force of 
the United States Marshal." At this moment he 
came in, and seeing Mr. Dawson sitting in front of 
me and holding my hand, doffed his hat and stam- 
mered out: "Good m-orn-ing, Mr. Dawson." Mr. 
Dawson at this arose from his seat, and said to the 
marshal : "Why, what in the name of common sense 
have you brought this sick and dying man here for ? 
I would like to know." Mr. Fulton began by asking 
him : "Are you human?" 

The marshal apologized, and appealed to me if 
he had not treated me well, and like a gentleman? 
If he had not secured a sleeping-car and a carriage ? 
To which I answered : "As to the sleeping-car, a 
friend of mine in Batavia gave you the money with 
which to pay for it ; as to the ^carriage,' I wish these 
gentlemen could see it, I think somebody in the 'hen 
business' would like to have it." The fact was, he 
had secured his appointment through the influence 
of Mr. Dawson, and now began to realize that his 
poor, sick prisoner had friends away here in Albany 
three hundred miles from home, whom he wished he 



276 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

did not know at all. He became exceeding clever to 
me, and would do anything for me. 

Mr. Dawson said to him : "Well, go and find out 
what the bail will be and see that it is forthcoming." 
and Fulton said (how characteristic) : "I will take 
him to my house, and if he isn't there when you 
come, then take myself and wife." He ordered a 
carriage, and soon I was in his pleasant home, under 
the kind, Christian nursmg of his family. Soon a 
physician was sent for, and I was safely out of the 
protecting power of this specimen of a human brute, 
called a marshal. Mr. Dawson and his partner in 
business became my bail, and after a two weeks' rest, 
I was sent home in company with kind friends who 
volunteered their gratefully received services. 

Two of the first lawyers in Western New York 
volunteered to defend me — Hon. L. W. Thayer of 
Warsaw, and the Hon. Sanford Church, of Albion, 
ex-Lieutenant-Governor of New York. At the next 
term of the United States Court at Kochester, the 
case was called up. Mr. Church addressed the 
Court by saying, among other similar things, that, 
"this case was an unheard-of transaction in civilized 
prosecution, legal or military." Hon. Mr. Thayer 
followed, by characterizing the whole affair, from 



LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 277 

beginning to end, as "unworthy of the cognizance 
of any Court," and moved that the Court enter a 
nolle jprosequi. The Court so ordered. 

The two men who had instituted these proceedings 
against me, were men to whom I had shown especial 
favor, and had them detailed for less severe service 
than the common soldiers. Yet they were the first 
to stimulate insubordination, and to embarrass me in 
my control of the company. They were clamorous 
for their discharge; but I was not able to relieve 
them from the obligations that they had voluntarily 
assumed — hence their venom. One of them, who 
had acted as my company clerk, and plotted my ruin, 
has since been found guilty of forgery. I am not 
able to say what has become of him. I still live to 
pity him, and those that so cruelly conspired with 
him against me. 

Conscious of my innocence, I did not fear the 
result ; yet, I was greatly distressed that I should be 
even charged with wrong doing ; and being dragged 
away to prison is not very agreeable. There was, 
however, one pleasant feature in it, for it discovered 
to me friends whose sympathy and friendship is, and 
will be so long as I shall live, very sweet to me ; 
and I want just here to leave this testimony of my 



278 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

gratitude to my comrades and brother officers in the 
Ninth New York Cavalry. Their letters came pour- 
ing in to the officers of the court, assuring them of 
my innocence, and were of great service to me. 
Through it all the Lord led me ; surely "He that is 
for me is more than they that be against me." 

During my long sickness, I had no way of making 
money, and I soon consumed what I had. I could 
not relieve my mind of anxiety concerning food and 
raiment, the means of providing which for my family 
I had none, except what was furnished by liberal 
friends of all denominations, added to what little my 
daughter could make by teaching a small district 
school. But we did not come to want. The church 
at LaGrange, nine miles off, time and again came 
down in force, and brought us supplies of provisions 
and money, and, what was worth more than these, 
showed a deep, fraternal love for us which greatlj 
relieved the tedium of painful and protracted sick- 
ness. 



I have read the manuscript of Captain Stimson, concerning his con- 
nection with the Ninth New York Cavalry, and the facts, as he states 
them, are known to me to be true. W. G. Bentley. 

St. Louis, February 7, 1874. 



HO, FOR KANSAS ! 279 



CHAPTER XXI. 

HO, FOR KANSAS ! 

MRS. STIMSON had a brother residmg in 
Kansas, who solicited us to come to this new 
State, where he thought there would be more 
advantages for our children in the way of securing 
positions in life, than in the older States. My 
physician's advice to seek some milder climate as 
the last hope of recovery, had already prepared us 
to listen favorably to the Kansas call — not church, 
but individual. We had a small place on which we 
were living, but there was an incumbrance on it 
that certainly we had no very bright hope of ever 
removing, under the circumstances of protracted 
illness and no income. After weighing the pros and 
cons, we concluded to join the army of emigrants 
for the far-off West, I expecting to find a grave in 
a short time among strangers. We left New York 
in April, 1864. I could not walk at the time 
without the aid of crutches. 



280 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

We stopped in Kinderhook, Michigan, to visit a 
dear daughter, with whom we spent two weeks. 
Here I attempted to preach for the first time in 
nearly two years. This duty, if such it could be 
called, I discharged sitting in a chair. I could not 
stand in one position long enough to read the Scrip- 
ture. We bade adieu to the dear ones in Michigan, 
and after a long and tedious journey through 
Missouri — the war at the time still raging and 
keeping all passengers in a state of constant fear — 
we at length arrived at Leavenworth, where our 
youngest son was taken sick, detaining us a week at 
the hotel, the landlord showing us the kindest 
attention. Here I had my first lesson of Kansas 
business matters. 

I had found out that there was no way of going 
to the Neosho valley but by the round-about one of 
staging it to Topeka, and then across the country 
in a little two-horse hack, over a trackless prairie to 
Burlington, and at exorbitant prices all the way. 
While we were waiting for the recovery of the boy, 
some one suggested that our cheapest way would 
be to purchase an outfit of our own ; that a pony 
team and a light wagon could take us and baggage 
with ease, and that the concern would sell at any 



HO, FOR KAXSAS ! 281 

time for about what it cost. So I began to look 
about for a bargain of the kind. T\Tiile sitting in 
the office of the hotel one day, a decently dressed 
young man stepped up to me (wholly accidental — 
so many interesting things are accidental in Kansas) 
and asked me if I didn't wish to procure a team to 
go into the country ? I told him I did, if I could 
get one" at a reasonable price. He said he had a 
good span of ponies and a light wagon, and invited 
me to go with him to the feed stable and see them. 
So I took my crutch and limped off with him to the 
stable, some three or four blocks. He brought 
them out and hitched them to his wagon. I saw 
that they were larger and better than the average 
run of ponies. After we had driven around town 
for a while, mostly on the back streets, I suggested 
that he drive down one of the main business streets, 
and to the hotel. He said the "ponies were afraid 
of stages and covered wagons, not being used to 
them, and that we had gone far enough for me to 
judge." "Well, I like their movement; what is 
your price for the outfit?" "Well, I will tell you, 
stranger : I am in a hurry to go back to Illinois ; 
my father is not expected to live ; I will take two 
hundred dollars for the whole ^shebano:.' The 



282 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PtJLPlT. 

wagon is a little worn, but the harness is new. I 
paid forty dollars for it last week." I saw it was 
a bargain, and just what I wanted. "Well, young 
man, you drive it to the 'Michigan House,' and I 
will take it." "Stranger, as I have told you, I don't 
like to drive them on the main streets ; they are a 
little sheery,^^ "Let me have the reins, then. I'll 
risk them. I never saw a horse yet I couldn't 
manage some way." But he objected, and put the 
team in the stable, and I hobbled back to the hotel, 
thinking what strange customs they had in Leaven- 
worth, and what a singular breed of ponies. 

He had not forgotten to say, however, that he 
would be around in the evening and close the trade, 
if I said so. I told my landlord what a fine rig I 
had found, and that the ponies were shy of the main 
streets. He replied, "Mr. Stimson, you will have 
to be on your guard against thieves. If that team 
and wagon are as you describe them, and can 
be had for two hundred dollars, you may be sure 
the fellow has not come honestly by them. I will 
go over and look at them." In less than thirty 
minutes he came back, saying, "Your team has just 
been called for by two men from Missouri. They 
have been after the fellow the last ten days. They 



HO, FOR KANSAS I 283 

were stolen in Clay County, Missouri. They have 
got the team, but the thief is minus." The ponies 
had got over their front-street fright. There are 
many plausible thieves in Kansas. The climate, or 
soil, or both — or something — seems to promote this 
quality of jplausihility in all the somewhat numerous 
tribes of thieves m this promising, ambitious and 
destined commonwealth. From what high or low 
source they may have caught the contagion, the 
deponent saith not. But a smoother set of pioneer 
thieves never existed. They are so smooth that 
they can't be caught ; and if they are caught, they 
are so smooth they can't be hung. But, thank God, 
they are dying out. That's the only hope. 

We took stage for Topeka, and after a long 
day's ride, we were set down in that capital of the 
new commonwealth. The next morning, at three 
o'clock, all five of us were crammed into the little 
seven -by -nine hack, without having had any 
breakfast. The old rickety concern, we felt, might 
fly to pieces any moment. At eleven o'clock, we 
were set down to our breakfast of beans and flies, 
and it was hard telling which outnumbered the 
other. But we found good fare where we stopped 
for the night, at least it seemed so then. The next 



284 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

morning, we arrived at the county seat of Coffey 
County, the humdrum of a place we had had such 
glowing accounts of, destined to be a live, wealthy, 
business, manufacturing ^ commercial, literary, 
political and religious center. Kansas is a very 
prolific State in great towns. Cities germinate and 
grow, prospectively at least (a very slight qualifi- 
cation), with the utmost spontaneity and rapidity 
on Kansas soil. In some instances, the wild grass 
is not killed out of the avenues before the city 
attains its greatest dimensions. There is much in 
a name sometimes, as well as in the soil and 
climate. There are no villages or towns in Kansas. 
The use of the more expansive name of "city" 
may account in part for the marvelous dimensions 
of some of our places. This and the broad-gauged 
term "avenue," confer a metropolitan flavor most 
conducive to growth, prospectively at least. The 
name "Prairie City" may serve to elucidate our idea 
to some of our Kansas readers. 

I wish I could describe my first impressions, and 
those of my family as we peered out of the woods, 
after crossing the Whistler's ford. "There," said the 
stage driver, "is the town of Hampden. That box 
house is where the printer lives, and that is the office 
on the high ground ; and that long low building is 



HO, FOR KANSAS ! 285 

the court house, and those logs piled up there is a 
blacksmith shop, and that is the carriage maker's 
place of business." It consisted of a shanty for 
hens, and a small barn. I believe I have catalogued 
the town ; if not, Colonel F. W. Potter will correct 
me. As the girls put their heads out of the stage 
and took a view of their new home, I thought I 
heard something like a sigh. I don't think it was a 
laugh. They were speechless. 

I stopped at the printer's, and found our relatives 
glad to see us, that is, they said so. And we settled 
in the city of Hampden, county seat of Coffey, 
Neosho Valley, Kansas. The valley, as a valley, is 
all right. That still remains, and is a rich farming 
country, destmed some day to be highly cultivated ; 
but all independent of Hampden as a county seat. 
I soon saw that the political cast of the place was 
democratic, and that nothing but pure democracy 
would be tolerated as a general thing. Negers were 
to have no sympathy, and abolitionists must keep 
mum. The war was a failure, Lincoln was a 
babboon, George B. McClellan was to be the next 
president, and the man who denied it was a fool and 
a knave. Such was the political and moral com- 
plexion — for the two are similar in such a case — of 
the city of Hampden. 



286 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

I did once venture cautiously to express my 
humble opinion on certain great questions of human- 
ity and national policy, and was at once chided as 
being out of order at the centre of business ; " it 
would not do at the county seat." If a man wanted 
to talk that way, he could cross "Whistler's ford" 
and relieve his mind, but he could not do so and remain 
in "Hampden, county seat of Coffey." 

There was one slight drawback, Hampden was a 
very dry place. Water could be had by going to the 
river, or at Denicke's well. It seldom came down 
from above, and it could not be obtained every time 
by any means, by digging. Water was worth 
something at the "city of Hampden, county seat of 
Coffey." Water being an important element in my 
religious, moral and sanitary creed, and free-thinking 
and free-speaking a cardinal right in my political 
creed, I concluded it was best for me to leave 
"Hampden, county seat of Coffey." Some thought 
we had "missed it." They were correct. We 
"missed" about four hundred dollars, all of our 
this-world's property, which we had spent in the 
flourishing city of "Hampden, county seat of Coffey." 
Good-by, "Hampden!" may there never be your 
equal this side the millennium. I am sure there will 
not be afterwards. 



I 



287 



CHAPTEK XXn. 



A KANSAS 



)T\HE a. B. H. M. Society had sent me a 
J- commission as their missionary for the Neosho 
Valley, with om* head-quarters at Humboldt, Allen 
County. Our instructions were to explore the 
whole valley from Council Grove to the Indian 
country. In October, we moved to Humboldt. 

My health had so far improved that I was able 
to preach once a day on the Sabbath, and occa- 
sionally twice, and ride in a buggy from twenty 
to forty miles a day. There were then no bridges. 
The people had not at that early day invented 
county bonds. The accommodation for travelers 
was not equal to what I had seen in some parts 
of the United States. I can't speak for Europe. 
Altogether,— including the extent of my field, 
brought to mind past infirmities and the permanent 
hold disease had on me, by exposure to storms, 
by fording of the streams, and often by swimming 



288 rR03I THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the ponies and carriage, and by the exactions of 
the Society calling for just so much labor, whether 
it was entirely practicable or not, — ^I was soon 
brought nearly down to my sick self again. I 
must say, too, that the compensation I received for 
these labors was not such as to keep a man's spirit 
in an undue state of exhilaration, taking into 
account the fact of a large family and also the fact 
of war prices. For example, I paid ten dollars 
for a hundi-ed weight of flour, thirty-five cents a 
pound for bacon, fifty cents a pound for coffee, two 
dollars and fifty cents a pound for tea, and for other 
things in the same proportion. We had lived all 
winter in a room eight-by-fourteen feet. We were 
compelled to set our table and chairs out of doors 
to make room to go to bed. For this, including 
the out-door room, I paid fourteen dollars a month 
rent. These e very-day facts were looked at in the 
light of wealthy Eastern churches, with good 
comfortable parsonages, the members there not 
taking the deepest interest in the pioneer work 
and workers. 



[Talk about heroism ! If you can find those who 
endured hardships more manfully, who crucified the 



A KANSAS "riELD." 89 

flesh more heroically or who labored more abun- 
dantly and with a more Christly spirit than some — 
we do not say all — of these early pioneers in the 
employ of the Home Mission Society, you may 
deny the propriety of our language when we call 
them heroes, who belonged to an heroic age. Their 
fields were sometimes as extensive as half a dozen 
Methodist "circuits." They were often away from 
home twice as long at a time as the ordinary 
"circuit rider." The Methodist system is substan- 
tially one of "circuits," even the pastors staying in 
a place but for a limited time. So that the early 
"circuit rider" was not cut off from the sympathy 
of the Church at its great centers of influence. Of 
course he endured hardships. Let no one under- 
value his work or his personal character. But 
much depends on how hardships are encountered. 
He encountered them backed up by the whole 
influence of a powerful organization that was 
making and had always made a chief glory of 
abounding in his very kind of labor ; that considered 
itself especially called of God to a pioneer work. 
And then his work was personally reviewed every 
year by his bishop, and his promotion was in pro- 
portion to his self-denial and labors. It is difficult 
to conceive of a more congenial atmosphere in 
which to perform early missionary labor, than that 
which continually surrounded the pioneer Methodist 
"circuit rider." The case of the appointee of the 
Home Mission Society of the Baptist Church was 
quite" different. He was, in a measure and to a 
greater degree, isolated. His work could not be 
adequately represented to "those in authority" who 
seldom or never visited the field in person, and 



290 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

often it was uncharitably compared with work done 
far away and under totally different circumstances. 
The spirit of the Church then and now is more 
properly spoken of as a foreign missionary spirit. 
The home missionary servant was often well-nigh 
forgotten, and his toils were comparatively unap- 
preciated, while the appointee of the Missionary 
Union was kept in the warmest remembrance and 
his work most highly prized. The sympathy felt 
for him was active, practical and cordial. So that 
we believe the statement correct, that of all men 
who helped and are helping to subdue this Great 
West to the sway of Messiah, the comparatively 
isolated appointees of the A. B. H. M. Society 
are worthiest of the name of heroes. — Ed.] 



I think, if I had my life to live over, I would do 
mor^ for the home missions than ever I have done. 
I would labor more to bring the wealthy men and 
churches of the denomination into deeper sympathy 
with the men and families on the frontier who are 
enduring well-nigh all things, in some cases, for the 
Master's sake. But, thank God, these inconven- 
iences and privations did not deprive us of His 
power at Humboldt. Amidst the clangor of war 
and the constant fear of the cruel "bushwhacker," 
which was only another name for murderer and 
plunderer, and whose foul deeds were being 
perpetrated nearly every day all about us, the Spirit 
was given and souls were converted to Jesus and 



A KANSAS "field." 291 

became obedient to the faith. The place had been 
sacked twice and burned once by rebel Missourians. 
It was now a military post, with altogether too 
small a protection to the remaining citizens, what 
few there were of soldiers being much given to 
drinking. With two saloons in fall blast every 
day, Sunday not excepted, and the click of the 
billiard-balls to be heard at all hours of the day 
and night, I made an attempt to preach a free and 
full Gospel to the few who came and listened. The 
larger part of the congregation was made up of 
troops from the post. Among them, I foimd a 
young man who was a Christian and took part in 
the devotions. He made no special claim of talents, 
but I soon saw that he had them; and I learned 
from the officers that he had been ordained, and 
preached yet occasionally. 

Coming to Kansas with his father's family, 
consisting of two or three brothers, he told them 
on the breaking out of the war that they ought to 
have a representative in the army of the country, 
and if no one of the others would be that repre- 
sentative, he should be himself. He enlisted in 
the cavalry service. I at once encouraged him to 
engage again in the ministry, but he declined, as 
he said he did not intend to preach until he had 



292 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

secured an education. I made an effort to get him 
a discharge from the army for that purpose ; but 
soou peace was declared, and he arranged his affairs 
and spent some time at our State University at 
Lawrence, and then completed his course in the 
Theological Seminary at Chicago, with great credit 
to himself and instructors. He is now one of the 
honored and beloved ministers of the State. No 
church need be ashamed of the Rev. R. P. Evans, 
pastor at Olathe. 

God poured out His Spirit at Humboldt in the 
midst of all the depressing and distracting influences 
at work. The place was very wicked. No sooner 
were backsliders reclaimed and sinners alarmed, 
than it seemed as if all the emissaries of the pit of 
perdition were sent there on a special embassy 
of ruin. But truth triumphed, and our Jesus 
conquered as He rode on "mighty to save." No 
opposition could stop the work. Profane swearing, 
drunkenness, lewdness, lying, thieving — all had to 
give way to the Spirit's work and the power of 
God in answer to prayer. The place we held our 
meetings in was crowded every evening, and in the 
day-time Christians of all denominations would 
come together for supplication and exhortation. 
God was with us in mighty power. 



293 

Soon, there was a disposition on the part of a 
number of the converts to follow the Master in the 
ordinance of baptism. The officers at the post gave 
us the use of a tent which was spread at the water's 
edge for the accommodation of the female candi- 
dates. On the Lord's day, I baptized fourteen — all 
adults. Thus the work went on to the praise of 
Christ. 

The man who kept the main saloon and billiard- 
tables of the place, was the son of a "hard-shell" 
Baptist of southern Illinois ; and among the officers 
who frequented his place, was Capt. Kendall, who 
had been well brought up, a man of fine abilities 
and education, but who had given himself over to 
drinking and gambling. A young man, not a 
Christian, had conceived the idea of making a 
donation to the "poor missionary;" and in carrying 
out his idea, he called at the different places of 
resort, as well as business. This saloon was visited, 
among the other places. There he found Captain 
Kendall, playing billiards. The young man stepped 
up to the bar, and handed his paper to Mr. Saloon- 
keeper. He at once rejected it, with an oath ! 

"No, not a cent. My father is a Baptist 

minister, and has preached these forty years and 
never received a dollar for it, and is a man well off, 



294 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT 

with a good farm; and I don't believe in these 
missionary Baptists, nor their protracted meetings. 
I won't give *nary red.' Let them go to work, like 
honest folks." Captain Kendall, hearing this reply 
of Mr. Saloon-keeper, said: "Well, 3^our father 

must have been a old fool, and his son is a 

chip off of the old block. Here, John, put me 
down for fifty dollars ; and call at my tent 
to-morrow, and I will pay it." 

A donation day was appointed. The largest place 
in town was jammed, all the officers and boys in blue 
vieing with each other to see who should do the 
most. I received over two hundred doUars. It 
was a timely gift, as all things were at war prices. 
Spring had come, and we were obliged to get out 
of our little "seven-by-nine" room where we had 
wintered and suffered. As there was no vacant 
house in Humboldt, a kind-hearted brother at lola 
offered us a part of his house as a gratuity, and as 
this was in our field, we of course took with delight 
his offer and moved. We have all felt ourselves 
under great obligations to Brother and Sister 
Weller, of lola, for theu' Christian sympathy and 
generosity. 



CLOSING THE IVAR IN MISSOUEI. 295 



CHAPTEK XXm. 

CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 

(l)\URING this spring the war came nominally to 
J-^a close, and yet all along the borders of Kansas 
and Missouri the skulking "bushwhackers" were 
committing fearful depredations. ]\Ien ran great 
hazards in ventm*ing out to any distance from the 
settlements. An old gentleman, with his wife- 
friends and neighbors of ours from New York — had 
come into the country to visit his children, and was 
taken sick and died. The widow requested me to 
accompany her with the corpse back to her old home 
in New York. I consented, and we had got as far 
as St. Louis and there I met our brother Jesse Stone, 
of Topeka, on his way to Boston. He was going 
through Rochester, and would take my place, giving 
me the privilege of attending our Anniversaries at 
St. Louis, which were then in progress. At the 
close of the meeting, the Missouri Pacific road had 
tendered free passes to all members of the conven- 



296 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

tion to the end of the line, then at TVarrensburgh, 
Missouri. A large number of the Eastern brethren 
accepted the proffer, among them Eev. William 
Michels, D.D., of New York City, U. D. Ward, 
Esq., of New York City, Eev. S. Graves, D.D., of 
Norwich, Connecticut. Some of the number were 
going through to Kansas. As soon as we were well 
under way, stories were put in circulation about the 
sad havoc the guerrillas were making in Missouri, so 
that at Warrensburgh they all concluded to return 
by the next train. But as my home was in Kansas, 
I must go on. We arrived in Warrensburgh about 
nine in the evenino;. The stao^e left at ten. An old 
man and myself were all the passengers to take the 
stage for Independence, Mo., about one hundred 
miles. The driver had a bottle of whisky, and was 
quite "tight" to begin with. The night was exceed- 
ingly dark. The road ran most of the way through 
the prairie. 

As the stage moved out of town, the driver halted 
and took on a boon companion, of like disposition 
and condition with himself, being under the delusive 
influence of bad whisky. They sang bad songs, and 
used bad language without stint. After traveling 
five or six miles, we met the incoming stage with a 



CLOSING THE WAE IN MISSOURI. 297 

full load of passengers. It stopped long enough to 
convey the news of the massacre atHolden of several 
of its citizens. We were to change horses at Hold en. 
I saw this sad tale excited my aged companion in 
travel, now almost travail, and he suggested for us 
to returu to Warrensburgh, and get a conveyance to 
take us through by daylight. But I said ; "No, that 
will not benefit us by way of protection from guer- 
rillas." So on we went in the dark. 

Between midnight and one o'clock, the coach 
stopped, and I heard the driver say: "We are out 
of the road ; here, you hold the lines, while I get off 
and look for it." After a long reconnoissance he 
came back, and reported he could not find it. The 
old gentleman and myself had got out of the coach, 
and observed that the man he had left to hold the 
team, was sound asleep on the box. I asked of the 
driver : "Where did you leave the road-track?" He 
replied, with an oath, that he didn't know. I asked 
him to let me have the coach lamp and I would go 
and see if I could discover it. As I took the lamp, 
the old gentleman opened the stage door and took 
his satchel out. So we started off together. And a 
fruitless search it was. We came back to find both 
men in a drunken sleep in the stage, occupying the 



298 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

seats, one of them having taken my satchel and 
shawl for pillow and covering. I went to the boot 
of the coach, and got the bottle of whisky and 
emptied it on the ground, and then threw the bottle 
as far as I could out on the prairie. I set the lamp 
in its socket, and waited for day. Nothing could be 
seen but the dim horizon in the distance. Not a star 
shone through the thick clouds that made the night 
so densely dark. 

I saw all this time that my aged friend was much 
excited, though he said but little. As daylight 
broke the spell of darkness, I could discover in the 
distance, men walking back and forth with glistening 
muskets. It was not light enough for me to see the 
dress of the men. The question that arose to me, 
and well nigh choked me was : "Is the color grey or 
blue?" I soon saw that four of them were approach- 
ing us, and I called up the boys and told them to 
hitch up, as we wanted to be moving. As the men 
neared us, I saw that they were soldiers in blue ! 
How blessed was that blue ! I felt better, as well as 
I can remember. The fact was, this drunken driver 
had been out on a waste prairie four or five miles, 
and these were the United States troops on the look- 
out for the raiders on Holden. They saw us by our 



CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 299 

stage light, and had kept us in view for hours, 
expecting that the bushwhackers would make their 
appearance, and pounce upon us as their prey. The 
sergeant of the guard directed us to the main road, 
and at eight o'clock we arrived at Holden. We were 
due there at four o'clock, a. m. The town was panic 
struck. Six of her citizens had been murdered in 
open daylight, and in cold blood, by a band of law- 
less devils in human shape, who, although the war 
was closed, were pushing their fiendish work of 
death for plunder's sake. 

I informed the stage agent of the conduct of his 
driver, and went before a notary public and made 
affidavit to the facts as above related. The hotel 
was demoralized and broken up by the murders and 
subsequent panic, so that no breakfast could be 
obtained there. A stranger informed us that just 
out of town, on the stage road, was a boarding 
house where we could get something to eat. So my 
old companion and myself asked the stage agent if 
he would have it stop for us at the place. "Well," 
said he, "I am not certain that the stage will go 
to-day, as the military will not furnish any guard. 
You do not want to go without protection, do you?" 
There were some railroad contractors that had been 



300 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

waiting for tlie stage ever since it was due in the 
very early morning, and were very anxious to get 
to their men on the job, six or eight miles ahead. 
Tliey said they ^^must goJ*^ Railroads are generally 
built by men who talk in that way. They could 
defend themselves "a little." One of them, turning 
to me, said, "Stranger, have you any revolver?" 
and to my companion: "Old man, have?" I told 
them I had none. "Well, here is one I will 
lend you as long as we are together." I thanked 
him and took it. The old gentleman said, "I should 
not know how to use one if I had it ; I never shot a 
gun in my life." "Well, said I, "call for us at the 
small house on the hill, and we will walk along." 
The lady gave us corn cake and bacon, and bitter 
coffee, made worse with sorghum. I saw the old 
gentleman kept his satchel in his hand all the time, 
and after our meal he said, "I will walk along and 
get in when you come up." 

An overgrown specimen of a "puke," who seemed 
to be general hanger-on about the house, said, "If 
you have got anything valuable with you, you had 
better leave it with me, for I doubt if you ever get 
to Pleasant Hill alive, if you don't have any escort 
there. Them bushwhackers are in the bush 



CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 301 

between here and that place." I saw this excited 
the old man afresh. As we walked along, and as 
soon as we were out of hearing of this individual, 
who had all the latent symptoms of a bushwhacker 
himself, my companion said, "I suppose you are a 
good, honest man, and I will tell you my condition. 
It is this. I am going to Kansas to see my sons at 
Emporia, or near there, and I am carrying them 
money to buy land with. I have got twenty 
thousand dollars in this satchel. I live in Pennsyl- 
vania, in Crawford County. I am a member of the 
Presbyterian church, and I hope, a Christian. I had 
no thoughts of any such trouble as this. If I had, 
I never would have started. I have never been 
away from home much. I thought I would hide 
the money somewhere in the woods, and then if I 
could, go to see my children." The tears came in 
the old man's eyes as he spoke. I said, "Now, 
this is your best policy. Keep quiet. Act careless 
about your money. Treat your valise as though 
there was nothing in it. Throw it down anywhere. 
Keep your eye on it, but appear unconcerned about 
it. Don't get excited when men talk. That man 
saw you were anxious about something, where we 
took breakfast." 



302 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Up came the stage with the raiboad contractors 
and one lady aboard. The old man threw in his 
rubber cloth satchel, and on we went. One of the 
passengers informed us that our greatest danger was 
about five miles on. Then we would be out of 
harm's way until at the Osage River, a few miles 
this side of Independence ; but the probabilities 
were that we should have an escort of cavalry from 
Pleasant Hill to Independence. We arrived at the 
former place about two p. m., and found that the 
troops stationed there had just returned from a long 
and weary scout for bushwhackers. They were 
wearied out, horses and all. The captain of the 
guard said he could not send a protection until the 
next day; but finally said, "If the men will vol- 
unteer, I will consent." And the old man said, "I 
will pay them, something." So the bugle sounded a 
"call," and up came the men. He made known to 
the soldiers the facts, and added that some of the 
gentlemen had promised them a present if they 
would go to the crossing of the Osage River. The 
old gentleman said, "Yes, I will give each man a 
dollar that will go," and twelve volunteered. We 
were safely escorted to the river, and before dark, 
we were in the city of Independence. The railroad 



CLOSING THE WAK IN MISSOURI. 303 

was completed from there to Kansas City. On this 
of course we gratefully, and with much relief, rode 
into the "village at the mouth of the Kav/." Here 
my old Pennite concluded to stay until the next 
Monday morning. He proposed to give me twenty 
dollars for aiding him. I thanked him No, I didn't 
wish to be compensated for doing right and using 
my wits. I went on to Lawrence to spend the 
Lord's day. 

Soon after returning home, the Kansas State 
Convention of Baptists was to hold its third annual 
meeting in Paola, June, 1865. Paola had been a 
military post during the war, and long barracks had 
been constructed for the quartering of the troops. 
The commanding officer of the post had given the 
use of these buildings to the Convention, and had 
arranged them as well as he could for the holding of 
the meetings. There was a good representation 
of officers and men in the meetings. The delegates 
of ministers and others from the State were fully as 
numerous as could be expected. Rev. J. B. Taylor, 
appointed to preach the opening sermon, was con- 
sidered, doctrinally speaking, of the "hard-sheir* 
stamp. If there were ever any doubts entertained 
before of the propriety of the epithet as applied ^o 



304 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

him, they were all effectually scattered by this 
sermon. It was antinomian "hard-shellism" hard- 
ened. The Association received it kindly, chari- 
tably, and in a way that spoke volumes for then- 
common sense, by letting it pass without note or 
comment. That brother's effort was destined ol 
com'se from all eternity to fall upon ears that were 
dull of hearing, and so to drop into well-earned 
oblivion. Inconsistency is woven into the very 
texture of the lives of men, individually as well as 
into that more complex life of associated men — 
mankind. That in this day of steam and electricity 
and personal achievement, any one could hold to 
such ideas as those mildly called "hard-shell," 
belonging only to the "sleepy hollow" age of the 
world, if to any, is one of those phenomena that 
prove beyond controversy that the "fall" made men 
liable to become fools as well as knaves. 

All was moving on with the best of feeling, until 
the last day of Convention, when the committee 
on the state of the country reported a series of 
resolutions, among which was one on the death 
of President Lincoln, expressed in terms of lamen- 
tation, and adulation of him as a Christian President, 
etc. The room was crowded with United States 



CLOSING THE WAE IN MISSOUKI. 305 

officers and soldiers, as well as of "citizens." No 
sooner had the resolutions been read, than the 
"hyper" brother arose and moved that "so much 
of the resolutions as referred to Mr. Lincoln as a 
Christian President be stricken out ;" and then went 
on to make a most violent speech, denouncing the 
President for being in a theatre when he was 
assassinated. He ought to have taken it into 
account that he was "foreordained" to have gone 
there ! You might as well undertake to put out 
powder when it is once ignited, as to have kept that 
audience, so largely made up of the "boys in 
blue," still. I being in the chair, called, "Order! 
Order!" But more than a dozen men were 
making efforts to get their hands on him. One 
had his bowie-knife drawn, to kill him on the spot. 
But two brethren. Major H. A. Dean and Sergeant 
R. P. Evans,* interfered, and saved the man from 
sudden death at the hands of United States soldiers. 
He was spirited away and secreted until night, 
when he left for his home in Lyon County. The 
resolutions were passed without opposition, except 
as above noted. 



*Now, Rev, E. f. IJvanS; of Qlathe, 



306 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

I have related this unhappy afiair, simply because 
great injustice has been done the brethren who 
were prominent in the Convention, by charging 
them with beinoj the instio:ators of intended violence 
to the person of Rev. J. B. Taylor. To me, it 
was said, in the city of New York, that "I, as the 
presiding officer of the body, and others connected 
with me, put the officers and men up to it." All 
present at the time know that I tried to keep the 
meeting in order. I but speak for the brethren 
of the convention, when I say that the charge is 
false. 

We then had a noble band of brethren in this 
new State. We were far from each other. Our 
ministerial meetings were few and far between. 
The churches were small and poor. There were 
but one or two finished Baptist meeting-houses in 
the State — one at Atchison and one at Manhattan, 
I believe. There was a frame up at Neosho Rapids. 
Leavenworth, Lawrence, Topeka, Junction City, 
Paola, Fort Scott, Ottawa, Emporia — not a Baptist 
church edifice in any of them, and all growing; 
towns of importance in anticipation, with all the 
elements to make them fulfill the expectation. 

I am astoiiished at the advance made by us, in 



CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 307 

every respect. Our Sunday school system was in a 
disorganized condition. The schools were feeble, 
poorly organized and irregular in attendance. We 
had a few young ministers of education and ability. 
Now, we have them by scores ; and the above-named 
towns are supplied with able men, and with church 
buildings that are ornaments to their respective 
cities. The summer and autumn of 1865 marks a 
new era in the history of the churches in Kansas. 
The war having come to a close, Christian men 
began to think of doing something for the Master. 
Quite a number of the men who had gone into the 
war and a few of the ministers returned to their 
homes, to preach Christ and serve the churches. 
While they thanked Him for victories in the field, 
they thanked Him still more for the victories of the 
Cross over sin and depravity. Immigration came 
in like a flood, and towns that had been in a stand- 
still condition during the nation's conflict, sprang 
into new life. God was in Kansas, notwithstandins: 
some "jayhawking" citizens. 



308 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



IN October, 1865, the trustees of the Ottawa 
"University" — ^Rochester and Harvard forgive 
the mark ! — invited me to move to that new "city," 
and take an agency of the institution, on a salary 
of one thousand dollars per year, and traveling 
expenses paid. I consented to do so, and at an 
early day moved my family to the place, and 
commenced my work as I was directed by the 
chairman and secretary of the board. The Baptist 
church at Leavenworth had begun to build an 
edifice, and the pastor. Reverend Winfield Scott, 
invited me to be present at the laying of the comer- 
stone ; and, by the consent of the board, I went. 
Soon after, Mr. Scott wrote the board, asking them 
to permit me to enter their service as agent to 
collect funds for the carrying on of their great 
project. Consent was given ; and I went East for 
that object, and spent the spring and sumnier of 



-LEAVENWORTH. 309 

1866 in the New England States and New York. 
I first stopped in Quincy, Illinois, collecting about 
two hundred dollars. Next, in Chicago, I raised 
the same amount. In Coldwater, Michigan, I raised 
one hundred and thirty-four dollars. I then went 
to New York, Boston, Hartford, Providence and 
the lesser towns and cities, and returned to Ottawa, 
having been absent from my family from the ninth 
of February to the eighth of October. During 
this time I was sick in New York City six weeks, 
but able a part of the time to supply some of the 
vacant pulpits, the pastors being away on their 
summer vacations, the compensation for such 
services to be applied to the church in Leavenworth 
towards their building fund. I went to New 
London, Connecticut, and spent ten days with an 
old fellow-laborer, Rev. Jabez Swan, whom I had 
not seen in thirty years, and with" him went to 
the Stonington Union Association, and heard him 
preach to the hosts of New England Baptists. It 
was "a feast of fat things" to hear him expound the 
Word of God and describe the revivals he had 
witnessed in that old Association, and what he had 
accomplished in his early pastoral work in New 
York and other States. I saw that a few of the 



310 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

younger brethren in the ministry thought he was a 
little too rough in his manner of address. But the 
large majority of these representatives of the New 
England churches had the greatest faith in his 
integrity and piety. Thousands upon thousands 
all over the land were his epistles known and read 
of all men. Many of them were present iu this 
meeting. In his fii'st pastorate in New London he 
had, by his plain, truthful dealing with error, so 
exasperated the Universalists that the}^, in their hot 
zeal, had gone on and built an expensive church, 
going far beyond their means, hoping blindly to be 
able to meet their coming liabilities. When this 
new and elegant house was dedicated, many of 
Swan's brethren said, if he had been a little more 
mild, that society would never have built such an 
edifice ; it grew up into form and beauty out of 
his imprudent and rash course towards them. 
Brother Swan hearing this a number of times, 
replied : "Brethren, the day will come when you 
or your children will see that meeting-house dedi- 
cated and owned by the Baptists in the city of New 
London. Now, mark my words." Brother Swan 
was soon called as pastor of the State-street church, 
iu Albany, New York. During the two or three 



-LEAVENWORTH. 311 

years of his settlement in Albany, the debts on the 
fine Universalist house in New London began to 
press upon them. Sixteen thousand dollars must 
be raised, or the house would be sold under the 
sheriff's hammer. No relief came. Three or four 
of the wealthier Baptists went to Albany, and said 
to Brother Swan : "If you will come back to New 
London, we will buy the new Universalist meeting- 
house, and have you installed as pastor in it. He 
consented ; and in a few weeks a sheriff's deed was 
made out to the Baptist church and society, and 
Jabez Swan installed as its pastor. There he 
remained, enjoying the fulfillment of his prophecy, 
until age had disqualified him for active labor as a 
pastor in the place. 

Rev. Jabez Swan was an outspoken man in a 1 his 
private and public ministrations. As a man in 
social life, he was as mild and quiet as a child, and 
as tender in dealing with inquirers after truth as the 
beloved John. In the pulpit, he was like Paul — 
logical and truthful. In prayer, he was a power 
with God. He could prevail. While pastor in 
Albany, he was called upon, as the custom was in 
that State at the time for the resident ministers in 
Albany, to act in turn as chaplain of the House of 



312 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Representatives and Senate. The Speaker of the 
House at the time, Hon. E. Litchfield, was a 
Baptist. When Swan's morning came to oflSciate, 
Litchfield called the House to order and said : "The 
Reverend Jabez Swan will address the^ Throne of 
Grace." Swan commenced in the usual way 
of formality, but soon introduced the practical 
matter of supplication, making time and place and 
subjects as pointed and personal as possible — 
something like the following: "Gh, thou Almighty 
Savior of sinners, here in this congregation are such 
as need salvation, and of every imaginable class. 
Here, G Lord, are men steeped in iniquity, in 
bribery, in drunkenness, lies, licentiousness and 
debauchery ; ; old blasphemers, men who fear not 
God nor regard the interests of man — men who are 
reprobate to all that is holy and good. Now, Lord 
God, make known Thy mercy in saving them from 
the power of the second death, and sustain Thy 
servant who is called to preside over them, that he 
be not contaminated by this herd of thieves and 
robbers. In Thy name we ask it. Amen and 
amen." Honorable Mike Walsh, of New York City 
notoriety, an eccentric fellow, arose in his place at 
the conclusion of the prayer, and moved a question 



"OTTAWA university'' — ^LEAVENWORTH. 313 

of privilege. When the chair had announced his 
name as having the floor, he continued : "I move 
that a copy of this prayer be spread upon the 
journal of the House, for it's the most appropriate 
prayer I have ever heard in this place." 

While thus acting as agent of the church at Leav- 
enworth, I was permitted to witness the Spirit's 
power in the salvation of sinners, in a number of 
places where it would have been delightful to have 
remained ancf assist the different pastors, had duty 
permitted me to do so. But I had a special object 
in pursuit. And I have always acted on this prin- 
ciple : never to do two things at once. "This one 
thing I do," said Paul. I did depart from this rule 
for a short time at Cold water, Michigan, ^««here I 
found the church in a divided state, and where it 
seemed to be duty to remain a few days and assist 
in the Christian work of reconciling brethren. 
After a week's stay, not without its good results, I 
trust, I went on, stopping at Detroit over one night. 
In this city, the churches were at the time embar- 
rassed with debt ; and so I hastened on to New 
York State, where I was born and where my youth 
had been spent in folly and sin : where the Spirit 
first revealed to me the deep depravity of my nature ; 



B14 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

where God, for Christ's sake, forgave my sins and 
led me to the cross for hope of eternal life. As I 
came to some of the places where I had lived as a 
sinner, I could not suppress my tears of mingled 
grief and joy — grief, when I remembered the 
blindness and hardness of my heart when a youth ; 
joy, when I considered my great deliverance from 
the power of sin. 

One sad reflection came upon me like an armed 
force. It was this : Many of the old ministers, 
and those who were my companions in the labor 
of the Gospel, had gone to the Better Land to rest, 
and were waiting for the resurrection of the just. 
The time was when I knew nearly every Baptist 
minister in the State from Lake Erie to the east 
end of Long Island; from 1840 to 1857, I had 
commingled much with those in the western and 
southern portions of the State. Among them, 
were men of choice spirit. But now, their places 
were vacant or filled with the young men who 
had been raised up in the churches and educated 
in our schools, nearly all of them strangers to me. 
It was, however, a cheering reflection that upon 
many of these sons of the Gospel the mantles of 
their ascended fathers had fallen, and the Elishas of 



-LEAVENWORTH. 315 

to-day were doing the very work of the Elijahs of 
yesterday. It is a source of joy and pride to see 
what the schools of the prophets have accomplished 
for the Baptist churches and their ministers in the 
last' quarter of a century. Forty years ago we had 
in all Western New York, but few educated min- 
isters, and now nearly every church in the State is 
supplied with a pastor whom no church would be 
ashamed to have stand before any audience as the 
ambassador of Christ. I could but exclaim, "God 
bless these dear young men with the power of the 
Spirit ! " The most of them gave the best of evi- 
dence that they were taught of God, as well as in 
the Seminary. 

I found only one exception, and perhaps what I 
criticized in him was a mistake more than a fault. A 
young brother was to preach the opening sermon at 
an Association. His text was Isaiah Ixiv. 6 : "We do 
all fade as a leaf." After an introduction by way 
of urging upon the assembly the importance of a 
chemical, agricultural and scientific understanding 
of the processes of nature in the growth of vegeta- 
tion, he announced his theme, "The Fading Leaf," 
and then set forth the doctrine of the text, (he said 
it was the doctrine) First, "The process of fading 



316 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

and falling;" Second, "The use the leaf is put to 
by nature, after it fades and falls." The sermon 
had one grand feature. It was just twenty-seven 
minutes long. At the conclusion, all said Amen. I 
was invited home to dinner with an old friend who 
asked me, with a twinkle of the eye, as we walked 
along, "What agricultural society did that young 
man say he belonged to ? " There was not a good 
round sentence in it, from beginning to end, for 
Christ and the salvation of lost men. But this case 
was an exception to the young men generally. He 
had more learning than good Gospel sense. 

I have given my views in a previous chapter on 
the subject of an educated ministry, so that I will 
not trespass again upon the time of the reader to 
enlarge upon the subject at this point. Everywhere 
I went I was hailed with a most hearty welcome by 
old and young, friends and strangers. After the 
meeting of the anniversaries in Boston, I came to 
Connecticut and spent the time till their annual 
State meeting in the city of Hartford — a meeting 
long to be remembered. It was a grand sight to 
see those New England Baptists who had contended 
so earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints 
against ecclesiastical domination and the authority 



317 

of a law of persecution, and to hear the reports 
from the churches they represented, showing how 
much material and spiritual prosperity attended 
them in all their religious enterprises. Such devoted 
men, laymen and ministers ! Such liberality as was 
evinced for every good object ! Such fraternal 
respect for each other, and for the opinions of 
others ! There was no great "/" and little "yow," 
as I had witnessed in some places. The doctors of 
Divinity did not put on airs, or betray any symptoms 
of having that bane of human gi'eatness, "the big- 
head." Every man's hat fitted his own head. One 
evening of the session was given to a social and 
simple supper in the large edifice of the First 
Baptist church. At this supper a number of gentle- 
men, not members of the denomination, were called 
upon for speeches, among them Hon. Mr. Hawley, 
Governor of the State, and son of a Baptist minister 
in the State, who had toiled when Baptists every- 
where in New England received ''cold-shoulder,''' 
and Baptist ministers small salaries in addition. I 
was called upon to represent Kansas and the needs 
of the Baptist church at Leavenworth, and in 
response to my plea for the latter, received nearly 
seven hundred and fifty dollars. All the pulpits of 



318 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

that State were open for the presentation of the 
wants of the needy. Well, Connecticut is a grand 
old State ! It's a good State to be in. It's easy 
work to praise it. 

At Danbury I found a noble band of Christian 
men and women. Here I was invited by the pastor, 
Eev. D. M. Stone, D. D., now of Milwaukee, 
Wisconsin, to present the claims of my object. 
Also at Norwalk I received the same invitation from 
Eev. C. N. Swan, son of Jabez Swan, of New 
London. The church at Stamford is a grand spec- 
imen of what a church ought to be. This church, 
Eev. Edward Lathrop, D. D., pastor, good and 
true, treated me with New Testament consideration 
and liberality. I then came back to New York and 
took the line of churches up the Harlem road to 
Westchester, Putnam and Dutchess counties, and 
attended the two Associations composed of the 
churches in that wealthy region of hills and dales 
which well nigh flows with milk, the farmers fur- 
nishing this article in the greatest quantities for the 
New York market. From these hills the water also 
for that mighty city is furnished. The Croton Eiver 
is here turned into two or three reservoirs, from 
which it flows in underground acqueducts about 



-LEAVENWORTH . 319 

eighty miles to the city, costing millions of dollars. 
I did not wonder that so many of the people in that 
country were of Baptist proclivities, water being 
so valuable an article, and so highly prized. I 
heard no complaints that it was "dangerous to 
health," as we hear out West. 

While in Rhode Island I received a telegram 
requesting me to go to Washington, D. C, to meet 
a friend, and to attend to business relating to the 
"University" at Ottawa. Having complied with 
this, I returned to New York, where I resigned my 
position in connection with that enterprise, and then 
hastened to my home in Ottawa, Kansas. As their 
pastor. Rev. I. Sawyer, D. D., had resigned, the 
church invited me to supply their pulpit until they 
could obtain another pastor. Mrs. Stimson was 
acting as matron of the Indian Department of the 
school. I accepted the position of supply until the 
next autumn. I then went to Lawrence, and com- 
menced a meeting in connection with the pastor of 
the Baptist church in that place, Eev. E. D. Bentley. 
This was about Christmas. I only expected to 
remain a few days, and then return to Burlington to 
spend the winter with my daughter and her family. 

Perhaps it will be of sufficient interest to the 



320 rR031 THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

reader to detail somewhat the precious work of 
grace iu Lawrence during the winter of 1867-1868. 
It was Wednesday evening, the time for the regular 
prayer meeting of the church. Pains had been 
taken by the pastor and others, to give notice that 
there would be preaching in the lecture room. At 
the hour appointed there were seventeen present, 
all told. I talked to this handful from the Word of 
the Lord in Nehemiah iv. 6, "For the people had a 
mind to work," introducing two simple thoughts : 
First, The magnitude of our work ; Second, What 
is our individual work as Christians ? At the con- 
clusion, I suggested this as a test of our willingness 
to enter at once upon the work, that each one bring 
a friend with him, or her, at the meeting the next 
night, and that would make thirty-four. Thm'sday 
night came, and there were over one hundred 
present, and soon we had to go into what was the 
main audience room at the time, and before January 
was out, all the churches in the city were in a full 
blaze of revival spirit, and multitudes of the impeni- 
tent were heard to inquire, "What must we do to be 
saved?" It was estimated that in all, four hundred 
had submitted to Jesus, mi hoped in his saving 
power. 



-LEAVENWORTH. 321 

I remained in Lawrence until June, and then went 
to Atchison, to supply the desk until Dr. Sawyer, 
pastor elect, should assume his position in the 
church. I spent the remainder of the year in 
preaching in destitute communities and in asssisting 
pastors in protracted efforts, as opportunities offered. 
During the time of holding these meetings, we 
experienced great inconvenience for the want of 
proper places in which to hold them, and the suffering 
to the people was great from what are called "basket 
meetings" held in the woods. These annoyances 
or sufferings proper were two : First, The chills 
and fever attacked the people, because of the 
miasma that arises from all unsubdued lands in the 
Western States, especially from low-wooded lands. 
Second, The flies, of which we have large swarms 
in this country, annoyed the horses and mules so 
badly that it was almost impossible to keep the 
animals in camp. Besides these, the heavy rains, 
so common in the forepart of the season, might be 
mentioned. 



322 FROM. THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXV, 



(A/T one of these out-door, afflicted gatherings at 
-^^ LaNape, Brother Winfield Scott and myself 
suggested the idea of a large tent, such as we had 
both seen in the army, and the practical utility of 
which we both knew. If we only had this, we 
could go on to the open prairie, where it would be 
healthier and pleasanter, and could also be protected 
against the hot sun and the dews, the rains and the 
flies. When the thing was named to the multitude, 
it was hailed as the very thing needed, and a reso- 
lution was passed that if possible one be obtained, 
and that Brother H. K. Stimson be requested to 
solicit subscriptions for the purpose — the tent to be 
called the "Baptist Tabernacle for Kansas." Early 
in this winter, I started out on this mission for a 
temporary meeting-house that could be easily moved 
from place to place, as circumstances should demand. 
I found the Northern winters in the sections of 



1 



323 

country I wanted to visit for the purpose so severe, 
and my health so feeble, that but little could be 
accomplished until the spring should open. Mean- 
time, I had gone on East and made a few collections. 
In April, I left New York for the West, At 
Chicago, I had the tent constructed, seats and all; 
and, by the advice of brethren, set it up in that 
city, the friends there contributing towards the 
expense. We held meetings in it for four or five 
days and nights, with large audiences filling it to its 
utmost capacity. It would hold, comfortably seated, 
about sixteen hundred persons, and by crowding 
it, twenty-five hundred could be got inside of it. 

When we were ready to move it, the Chicago, 
Burlington and Quincy Railroad Company, and the 
Hannibal and St. Joe Company, volunteered to 
convey it to Leavenworth, free. The Reverend 
L. P. Judson, of Stillwater, New York, accom- 
panied us and took charge of the tent as far as 
Leavenworth ; and there, with the assistance of 
that ever-ready and industrious Reverend Winfield 
Scott, we pitched the Tabernacle for dedication. 
Large crowds assembled from day to day and from 
night to night. We next moved it to Ottawa, 
where there was to be a Sunday school celebration, 



324 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

and where we were persuaded to erect it for the 
accommodation of the large meeting. From there, 
we went to LeKoy, Coffey County. At this place, 
the small church gave us the best accommodation in 
their power, under the circumstances. At this 
place, my health gave out, and I was obliged to 
desist from further personal labor during the season. 
The brethren at Burlingame, Osage County, had 
proposed to send teams for the tent, in which to 
hold the meetings of their Association. But failing 
to come to time, we put the Tabernacle into winter 
quarters at Burlington. 

This tent enterprise aroused a good deal of oppo- 
sition from the enemies of religion, and, I regret to 
say, a few of the professed friends of the Master in 
Kansas. Why they should oppose it, I could never 
know. It was suggested that it grew out of the 
fact that they did not get it up, and that there was 
no money to be made out of it for their pockets. 



[This somewhat famous tent might have been as 
successful, practically, as it was bold and original 
in conception, if it had not been for two mistakes — 
one of which Father Stimson was not responsible 
for, under any circumstances ; and the other was 
a most natural mistake to make for a man ambitious 



**THE Baptist tabernacle.'* S25 

of doing the most good. Too much camiot be said 
in praise of the idea of such a tent. It showed a 
more thorough comprehension of the situation than 
anything ever devised in a religious way, even in 
prolific Kansas. The first mistake was in making 
the tent too large. It was not too roomy for some 
places where it would be advisable to erect it. 
But it was designed for pioneer work, for towns 
and communities where there were no church 
buildings or public halls, and where one-half the 
room would accommodate all the people that could 
be induced to attend public worship, even in so 
novel and inviting a place as a tent. The canvas, 
seats and poles were a full load for four horses. It 
was a great job to move it from place to place. K 
it had been half as large, an ordinary wagon and 
span of horses would have been all the equipage 
necessary for its removal. The work of erecting it 
would not have been half as much ; and in every 
place it would have been entirely full — and others, 
besides public speakers, know the inspiring effect 
of a full audience. The second mistake was in 
erecting it in places where it wasn't really needed. 
In Chicago, where it was gotten up, it was well 
enough to spread it for an opening meeting. But, 
even there, it ought to have been with the square 
promise on the part of responsible ones that every 
cent of indebtedness on it should be paid off at the 
time. It never should have been erected in 
Leavenworth or Ottawa. These towns had certainly 
passed beyond the tent period. If a tent that 
would comfortably seat five or six hundred had 
been kept in the infant towns of Kansas from the 
time this monster canvas first made its appearance 



326 FROM TSU STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

at Leavenworth, and had been manned by Brethren 
Stimson and Scott, it is safe to say that the number 
of conversions in the State during the time would 
have been at least five thousand greater. 

I would rather be the author of a grand failure, 
than to live forever like some old parchment-skinned 
conservative, whose main characteristic consists in 
equivocating so as to avoid every square, vital issue, 
and whose religion consists in not doing anything 
that will have the least appearance of being out of 
the ordinary beat. Such men, however much they 
may cry "Lord, Lord," hardly belong to the race of 
heroes smitten with the power of 9ie Spirit until 
wherever they go the cry is : "These that have turned 
the world upside down, have come hither also." 
If they ever keep company with the apostles and 
their spiritual successors, the Lord will surely have to 
shake the easy-going, damnable conservatism out of 
them. I would rather be Sir John Franklin, though 
the unknown region of the Pole is never pierced by 
the prow of any human navigator, than to be old 
Sir Parchment Conservative, with my money bags 
and blessings, the fruitage of other people's enter- 
prise, and for whose daring and skill I had only 
sneers. I would rather be the child of the man 
who devised for God and humanity this tent, though 
it was too large, and though it was set up at first 
where it was not needed, than to be obliged to call 
any of the full-favored persons, or those afflicted 
with the dry rot of conservatism, who ridiculed the 
enterprise, my father. 

It was my good fortune to be present a short time 
at Fort Scott, during Brother E. P. Hammond's 
stay in that enterprising city, when the old tent 



327 

vindicated the wisdom of its originator. It was 
during his great religious campaign in Kansas, in 
the year 1872, when God so signally blessed Atchi- 
son, Leavenworth, Topeka, Ottawa, Paola, Fort 
Scott, and last, but chiefly, Lawrence, with His 
saving grace, and the name of Hammond became a 
household word with thousands who previously 
cared for none of God's fellow-laborers. All these 
places except Fort Scott, had church buildings, or 
halls large enough to accommodate the multitudes 
that crowded the meetings of this Avonderful man of 
God. Here there was no place that would hold the 
half of them, until the active ones thought of the 
tent, and brother Hammond with his quick insight 
for expedients urged the brethren there to secure it. 
I went as a special messenger in behalf of the church 
at Ottawa. I arrived at Fort Scott after ten o'clock 
at night. I hurried up town ; delegates from other 
places and for the same purpose being aboard the 
same train. I found the tent jammed with human 
beings, and the backless seats in the open, chill air 
outside, all full. It was estimated that from five 
hundred to a thousand were outside the tent each 
night. People had come from long distances in 
covered wao^oiis to attend the meetino^s. If it had 
not been for the big tent, Fort Scott would not have 
enjoyed the labors of the great evangelist, which 
resulted in such "showers of blessings." If the tent 
had never served any useful purpose before, and 
never shall again, its service in the great meetings 
at Fort Scott has vindicated its making many fold. 
—Ed.] 



328 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

At LeEoy, after we had got the meeting in opera- 
tion, one of the lawyers of the place, au old acquain- 
tance of mine, met me in the street with the remark : 
"Ha ! Elder, I understand you have gone into the 
circus business, and are now performing in our 
city." This was said with a leer in the expression 
of his face, that expressed his hatred of religion. I 
replied: "O, yes, Squire J., and I am out now to 
look up a babboon to put into the concern, and you 
are the very one for the place ; come right along, I 
will do well by you." He turned on his heel and 
left. As a general thing, our efforts with the tent 
were treated with due respect by all classes. 



KINDERHOOK — WHEATLAND. 329 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

KINDERHOOK ^WHEATLAND . 

MY feeble and failing health demanded rest and 
quiet. So I went East to Michigan, to stay 
a while with a daughter in that State and recruit 
for the spring campaign. But I was advised by 
physicians and friends not to think of exposing 
myself to the fatigue and hardship of such exhausting 
work, especially at my time of life. At Eanderhook, 
Michigan, where my daughter resided, was a Baptist 
church without a pastor. In fact they had never 
enjoyed the regular, consecutive labor of a pastor ; 
preaching "onct" a month, or "twict" at best, being 
the rule with them. The church numbered about 
thirty or thirty-five. They had built a snug little 
meeting-house, and had a good congi'egation. An 
invitation was extended me to become their pastor, 
which I accepted. I at once moved my family there, 
and found them a good, common sense people, quite 
consistent in their daily walk, and willing to do what 



330 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

they could to sustain the cause of Christ, and hold 
up the hands of the pastor and make his position 
secure and comfortable. So the first year passed 
off agreeably, and with evident tokens of good in 
prospect. 

Our Sunday school was a union school. No 
sectarian sentiments were to be taught in it, as is 
the common rule in such cases. Not even a book 
was admitted that had a tendency in that direction. 
In the year 1870-71, we had quite a religious 
awakening, and a number of hopeful conversions to 
Jesus. On one Lord's day, a regular teacher in 
the school was absent, and her place was supplied 
by the wife of the Methodist clergyman of the place. 
In the lesson the subject of baptism occurred. A 
young lady in the class asked a question on the 
subject. The teacher at once protested that baptism 
was not by immersion, and that Jesus was not 
baptized as an example, but as an introduction into 
the priest's office. When I returned home, I found 
quite a fermentation working on the subject, and 
thought, as it was a union school, these things ought 
not so to be. The next Sabbath, the said Methodist 
lady came with her husband to frown me down, and 
to choke off all utterances by way of protest on my 



I 



KINDERHOOK — WHEATLAND. 33] 

part. Wisliing to counteract the mutually inter- 
dicted influence then and there, in my own house of 
worship, as it was manifesting itself in the pew 

away in one corner, I said, "If you wish, Mr. H , 

to discuss these questions at a proper time and in a 
proper spirit, I hold myself ready to engage in the 
discussion. But just here and now, I am not ready 
to enter upon it, and for the present, I protest." 

But the spirit of war was difi'using itself like 
leaven in the meal. In June, Brother A. P. Graves 
came and labored four or five days with the church, 
and the revival spirit of the previous winter was 
renewed and increased to a large extent. The 
meeting closing on Friday, the next day was our 
covenant meeting. I gave notice of the same, and 

Mr. gave notice that he should be there and 

preach at five p. m. , and if any wished to join his 
class, an opportunity would be afi'orded. Saturday 
came, and to m}'- surprise nearly every convert was 
there. And as they presented themselves, one after 
another, for baptism, a number of the Methodist 
brethren and sisters made the request to be 
admitted, and among the number was the man who 
had been a class leader, and a strong supporter of 
that church for years. He arose and said : "You 
all know me and my course of life. I want to be 



332 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PIILPIT. 

immersed, aud become a member of this Baptist 
church." Ten or twelve united and were baptized 
the next day in Silver Lake. It was a grand day for 
converts and the church, and the old pastor never 
felt better in his life. 

The Methodist minister lived opposite my house, 
and as he returned home to attend his five-o'clock 
appointment, his good wife sat in the doorway, 
waiting for him, and I sat in my door. As he drove 
up to the gate, his wife rose, and walking with 
rapid strides, threw up her hands and exclaimed in 
upper tones, "John, they have all gone, George 

and all, into the Baptist church I" ]\lr. H 

hung his head, and sat silent for awhile. He then 
went and put out his horse. This broke up the 
sweet union, so much talked of by certain ones — 
union as long as theycan have their say and way. 

Just in the midst of this revival, the old Wheat- 
land church extended me a call to visit them, and 
re-settle with them as pastor. I went down to New 
York and spent two weeks with them, and gave 
them encouragement of accepting their invitation. 
They expressed a great desire that I should, and 
offered me many inducements, pecuniary and other. 
But when I returned to Kinderhook, and found 
what the Spirit was doing, and the state the church 



( 



KINDERHOOK WHEATLAND. 333 

was in, and how much the young converts needed 
the fostering care and counsel of a pastor, I wrote 
to the friends in Wheatland that it would be impos- 
sible for me to leave at the particular juncture. 
For some unaccountable reason my letter and other 
letters did not reach them, nor their communications 
reach me. So the negotiations between us ended. 
Perhaps it was all for the best. In a human view, 
it did look as though something might have been 
accomplished for that old wealthy church and 
people. I can imagine that an effort at that time 
would have resuscitated the cause in that once very 
flourishing field of religious power. 

On the other hand there would have been many 
things against such a success. The two young 
churches on either side of them were anxious to 
secure the wealthy and active members still remain- 
ing in the mother church. Mumford and Clifton 
were like the "daughters of the horse leech." And 
then again, I was much older, and somewhat 
impaired in health. As I said to an old friend, 
H. K. Stimson of 1850 was not the same man in 
1871. A large majority of the members remaining 
knew me only when they were children, and the 
elderly ones would say, "Well, we heard that 
clattering voice a long time ago, but now it has lost 



334 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

its ring and vim." It may all have been for the 
best as it was. I meant to do right. The other 
too churches had good, reliable pastors, and are 
working in harmony serving God. I wish we had 
more such here in Kansas, and more such meeting 
houses with their bells in many of our new and 
rising towns. 

The old cemetery in Wheatland is a sacred city 
of the dead to me. There are the remains of a 
multitude of dear old friends, in whose names and 
memories there is a sweet fragrance. They were, 
many of them, my counselors and supporters, in 
the days of my residence among them. These 
hands helped to smooth the dying pillows of some 
of them, and over the cold bodies of many I said, 
"Dust to dust." And, a dearer tie than these — a 
large number of them T buried with Christ in the 
baptismal tomb. One little cherub lies in the 
sacred enclosure of that cemetery whom we depos- 
ited there during the first year of our residence in 
Wheatland. Oh, what a glorious day that will be 
when the graves shall give up their dead, and we 
shall greet each other in the Celestial City ! God 
hasten it in His time ; and let us be prepared to 
meet Him and each other with joy, and not with 
grief. 



BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 335 



CHAPTEK XXVn. 

BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 

IT was a strange Providence that brought us back 
to Kansas again. But I can now see that it was 
a Providence fraught with the weightiest consid- 
erations, as all His dealings are. Our children who 
remained here were constantly writing, urging us to 
return to Burlington ; and the remnant of the 
Baptist church here held out inducements to me, 
pleading that something might be done to resuscitate 
the fallen cause of the church in the place. Their 
late pastor had deserted them and joined another 
denomination, and left the church in a distracted 
state. He had gone off largely m debt, to his own 
disgrace and their shame ; and if something was not 
soon done, all would go to ruin. Through his 
mismanagement, a small dwelling-house had been 
purchased with a tax-title against it and a mortgage 
of two hundred dollars. They had already paid 
more than the property was worth or would bring 



336 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

in market. On arrival, I found things even worse 
than represented, and the church few in numbers 
and poor. I did not expect to settle as pastor with 
any church, but to rest with our children and do 
such missionary work as might present itself, espe- 
cially among the poor and destitute communities in 
this county. But soon the church extended me a 
call to become pastor ; and although they could not 
promise a competent support, they would do all 
that in their poverty they could to sustain a pastor. 
Under these circumstances, I accepted the position 
and set myself at work. We had no place in which 
to hold our meetings, only an old dilapidated school- 
room in an upper loft — dirty, dingy, inconvenient, 
uninviting. The Sunday school was about the only 
redeeming feature of the concern, and that greatly 
retarded for the want of an attractive place in 
which to collect the children. Many of the parents 
did not wish their children to go up into the old 
stone building. The school had been kept together 
by Brother I. Mickel, who was doubtless the best 
superintendent in the city. In the course of the 
winter, the Episcopal chapel was vacant, and the 
wardens of the church invited us to occupy the 
house until they should be supplied with a rector. 



BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 337 

We accepted their kind offer, and at once entered 
the chapel with our Sunday school and congre- 
gation. Both were soon largely increased, and 
things moved on for awhile with a degree of pros- 
perity. But soon some of the feminine members 
of that church began to put on "high church" airs, 
and thought it an outrage on the sacred place for an 
"unconsecrated and unordained" man to preach 
there, polluting their "sacred and holy sanctuary." 
And then, "if this old Baptist Elder and his little 
church can get up a Sunday school of seventy-five 
or eighty children and a decent congregation, why 
can't we?" who are the regular succession. The 
good brother, the rector who had preached to the 
church and was expected to return in the spring, 
was a true, evangelical, Christian gentleman, and 
had suggested the matter of our occupying their 
house in his absence. Soon, however, we were 
notified to vacate the premises, and were again 
turned out upon the "cold charities" of the world. 
Some of the most lovely and devout Christians I 
have ever seen, were members of the Episcopal 
communion. They were "low church," though, 
you may be sure. Such cared much more for 
Christ than for "church," and for his true members 



338 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

than for mummeries. As for "high church" people, 
Simon-pure, I have the same feelings and respect 
for them I have for the high-priests and Pharisees 
mentioned in the account of the murder of Christ. 
They belong to the same category. They have 
great regard for the "outside of the cup and platter." 
They have much more respect for the vestments 
than the character of the men (or men and boys) 
who "minister" before them. They never could 
have endured John the Baptist. His "vestments" 
would have been shockingly wanting in length and 
in all regard for the sacred proprieties. They would 
prefer to do without the Messiah, rather than 
receive Him at the hands of such a "Forerunner." 
A Gospel that could be preached in the wilderness, 
or on a lake in a fisherman's dirty boat, and that 
was glad news to tax-gatherers and harlots, is alto- 
gether too rough a thing for them in their soft silks. 
How such "high church" grandees are ever to 
endure a heaven of equality, to keep company with 
redeemed Magdalenes and poor people with bad 
antecedents, and to worship Him who "exchanged 
visits" when here on earth with families that did 
their own work, is a matter of strange interest to 
me. Women seerp to have a "fatal facility" for 



BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 339 

soaring (or sinking) into this hyperion of double- 
rectified religion. It must have been invented to 
suit their superlative notions. There is something 
so select about it. It doesn't bring them into 
contact with females who presume to worship God 
with last year's bonnets on their plebeian heads, and 
who manipulate the "prayer-book" with ungloved 
hands. It's the nobbiest thing out, this genteel, 
gilt-edged, high-toned. Fifth-avenue, carriage-and- 
four, F. F. Y., superlatively refined improvement 
on the religion of the homeless, wandering Son of 
the Nazarene carpenter. 

Notwithstanding we had no place in which to 
meet except an old dingy Court-room, our Sunday 
school kept up its interest. We were very kindly 
offered the use of such meeting-houses as were not 
used by the respective churches worshiping in 
them — a kindness appreciated by us all. At this 
time, the mortgage on the property of the church 
became due, and the parties holding it were pressing 
its payment. An effort was made to cancel the 
claim ; but the old patrons of the enterprise were 
unwilling to contribute any more, and there the 
matter was likely to hang. Just before this^, a 
brother and sister had come among us from the 



340 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Second church of Kochester, New York. They 
proposed to assist in the payment of the mortgage, 
on condition that an effort be made to build a house 
of worship ; in which case, they would also purchase 
a lot on which to build it. After much pleading 
and a little ill-feeling on the part of some, the 
mortgage was paid, by Mrs. Stimson giving fifty 
dollars of money especially belonging to her. This 
offering did not come out of our two hundred-dollar 
salary, not yet all paid. We shan't cry if it's never 
paid. This Brother Wigston, from Rochester, New 
York, procured a suitable lot ; and it was decided 
by the trustees and church that I should go and 
solicit assistance in erecting a suitable house of 
worship. Accordingly, on the ninth of April I 
started out on my mission ; and after spending a few 
weeks in Michigan, where I received a cordial 
greeting and material contributions to my object 
from both pastor and people, I hastened on to 
Western New York. Many of these Michigan 
people will be held in refreshing memory, and will 
have the lasting gratitude of the little church in 
Burlington, for their liberal, practical sympathy, 
manifested to them in then* poverty. I have often 
said when alone, "God bless the pastors and churches 
in Michigan." 



OLD MEMORIES. 341 



CHAPTER XXVin. 



OLD MEMORIES. 



IAREIVED in New York just in time to wit- 
ness the proceedings of the Niagara Baptist 
Association at Akron. It was in this Associa- 
tion that I was ordained, and in which many of my 
youthful ministrations were bestowed. Here I met 
a few of the veterans of the Master's cause, but not 
one of the old ministers. All were at rest. Hon. 
Burt Van Home was a child when we labored in this 
Association. I remembered well the house and 
home of his devoted father and mother, who were 
pillars in Zion ; and the day he was baptized in one 
of those precious revivals in Newfane. He was 
moderator of the Association, a position he has held 
for a number of years consecutively. And a capital 
presiding officer he makes. I spent the next Lord's 
day in Lockport, and the next week in attending the 
Orleans Association at Shelby. Here I met a large 
number of old friends, but not a minister that I knew 



342 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

when I was young. I was led to ask : ''The fathers, 
where are they? and the prophets, do they live 
forever?" Here, I met the widow and family of 
one of the Wheatland members I baptized in 1847, 
and was made the guest of the family during my 
stay there. I was offered a collection, and was 
invited to visit their churches in the Association. 

I then went on to Rochester, and spent a long 
time with old friends and with the churches in and 
about that goodly city. The land-marks in many 
places had been moved, and in not a few respects 
radical changes had taken place — some for the 
better and some not for the better. Rochester is a 
grand little city, in which I, in common with the 
whole Baptist brotherhood, feel a degree of pride. 
How different now from the first time I saw it in 
1819 1 Fifty-four years had changed it from a 
little village to a prosperous, literary, religious city 
of eighty thousand inhabitants — the influence of 
which is felt to the ends of the earth through the 
educated sons of its institutions of learning. I 
went there to live in 1824. Then its streets were 
not paved, except with black mud. I remember 
that in Buffalo street, between State and Sophia, I 
got "stalled" with an empty coach in 1826, and had 



OLD MEMORIES. 343 

tx) send back to the hotel for help to get out. 
There were some things I remembered as I revisited 
the localities, that I wished I could forget. I will 
not enumerate them ; "of which I am now ashamed." 
They bring a blush to my temples as I think of 
them. I will allude to only this one, of the lighter 
sort. This is hardly a specimen of many that were 
much more disgraceful. The village had then just 
organized a police force, and had for a place in which 
to confine violators of the public peace, the basement 
of the then new court-house, long since given place 
to the stately edifice that now graces the city. In 
this room they had just put new cricket-bedsteads, 
and nice rose blankets, so that the city criminals 
could have rest of body, if not of conscience. These 
sleeping accommodations had not been used. I 
knew the man on duty that night ; only one at a time 
was required. His name was "Constable Beach," as 
we called him. It was court week, and every bed 
in the "Eagle Hotel" ^d "Mansion House" and 
"Clinton Hotel" was full. Mr. Ains worth, the 
keeper of the "Eagle" had given the beds in the 
attic story, that were usually occupied by the stage 
drivers, to some of his court guests. So we were 
called to lie on the floor in the bar-room, or sit up, 



344 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

just as would suit our tastes best. After yawning 
out our stories and getting tired of our entertain- 
ment, and feeling the need of rest, I saw Constable 
Beach pass along the street, on his round of 
duty. At once I thought of the new beds under the 
court-house, and suggested to the boys a plan for 
lodging for the remaining short hours of the night. 
The plan was this : we would go into the street and 
get up a sham fight among ourselves ; Beach would 
come along, arrest us and put us into the new rooms 
and clean beds of the city "boarding house." Out 
we all went, five or six of us, and began our row, 
then clinched. Up came Beach in great haste, 
arrested all of us, and hurried us over to the court- 
house bed rooms. "There, boys, you can lie down 
there if you choose. In the morning I shall take 
you before Squire Warner," and he locked us in. In 
the morning he came in and said : "You will all want 
your breakfast. I will go over with you to the 
^ Eagle.' I suppose you all board there." He saw 
us laughing as we were straightening up, and asked : 
"What was the fuss among you last night, boys?" 
So we told him a plain, unvarnished tale. "Well, 
go and get your breakfast, I will let you ofi" this 
time, but you must not do it any more, boys." I 



OLD MEMOEIES. 345 

told him if there was any damage done, he must get 
it out of Russ Aiusworth, and put it into the public 
fund as "lodging money." Thurlow Weed was then 
publishing in the village a small weekly paper, and 
made a note of the afiair, under the caption of: "A 
Joke on Constable Beach ; Cheap Lodgings at Cor- 
poration Expense." 

During my stay in the region, I visited the town 
of Mendon, where my childhood and youth were 
mostly spent. An old friend invited me to make 
my home at his house while I remained there. And 
a brother in Rochester, formerly a resident of that 
place, Mr. S. F. Kjmball, accompanied me, having 
sent on an appointment for the Sabbath. We were 
met at the depot by Mr. Daniel Allen, who con- 
veyed us to the village of East Mendon. This little 
village has been left out by the railroad some three 
miles to one side, which slighting has appeared to 
dry up all the sources of business enterprise in this 
once enterprising little burg. In our days of 
staging, it was what we call out West a "right 
smart place." Two or three daily lines of stages 
changed horses, and breakfested and dined here, so 
that a ready market was found for the hay, grain 
and hotel provision the farmers of the region had to 



346 FROM THE S'ftAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

dispose of. It contained four stores and two good 
hotels ; — now, only one little store and one third or 
fourth-class hotel. But this was not the most dis- 
heartening change visible. The religious decline was 
more depressing to me than all else. The two meet- 
inghouses were standing nearly empty every Sabbath. 
The Baptist house, where crowded congregations 
used to meet, was now sparsely filled, and the same 
was true of the Presbyterian. I met but few that I 
recognized, and less, far less, that were members of 
either of theae churches in 1828-1831. What few 
there were that remembered me in my youth, had 
some romantic story or frivolous trick of mine to 
relate, to my chagi-in. Some of them were false, 
only made up to perpetuate a bad record of youthful 
folly and nonsense. Some of them told me of my 
pranks in youth, that their fathers and mothers had 
been cognizant of. 

On Sunday my congregation was composed of 
Baptists, Presbyterians and Methodists, who had 
come out to hear "the man who once was the fun- 
making boy of Mendon," now an old Baptist 
minister. They gave me a fair collection for the 
object of my mission, and seemed to do it heartily, 
as to the Lord. On Monday, I called on a number 



OLD MEMORIES 347 

of old friends, and then returned to Rochester. My 
temporary home while in the city, was in the families 
of A. and J. A. Hibbard, where I experienced as 
much kindness and attention as I could expect from 
my own children in sickness. No better nursing and 
care could be bestowed on an own father. Long 
shall I cherish a deep sense of gratitude to God for 
these dear friends, and many others in the "Flour 
City." 

My stay in Mendon, though brief, brought to 
mind frequently the person and character of one 
who "being dead,' yet speaketh;" one who occupied 
a large place in the hearts and thoughts of the 
people, and who waged so successful a warfare 
against sin and the devil, in this and adjoining 
places. I refer to Elder Weaver. 



348 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXIX, 



ELDER WEAVER. 



37VLDER Weaver — "Elder" was the much more 
-■-^ common designation of ministers then, specially 
Baptist ministers — was a power wherever he 
preached. He was a farmer when he began preach- 
ing, and was, strictly speaking, self-educated. 
What he acquired was acquired from few books, and 
without all the aids of the modern school system. 
He had very noticeable peculiarities. He was a 
large, bony, angular, rough-looking man. He was 
what we boys used to call "cock-eyed," not exactly 
cross-eyed, but the opposite of that, so that while he 
seemed to be looking in one direction he would really 
be looking in another. His complexion was exceed- 
ingly dark, and his bushy whiskers as black as a 
raven. These chin appendages were a source of 
complaint on the part of his friend?. Whiskers on 
a ministerial face were not as orthodox then as now. 
His heavy black hair he used to wear quite long. 
He often preached with his coat off. 



ELDER WEAVER. 349 

His praise was in all the chiirclies. * He was 
eleven years pastor of the Mendon church. When 
he settled there the church numbered twenty-one, 
and worshiped in an old school-house, called the 
"boiling spring," because they always had such 
powerful devotional meetings. What temporary 
place of worship receives any such epithet now, on 
account of the meetings in it? This "boiling 
spring" fact is as high praise, well-nigh, as could 
be bestowed on a church. Brother Weaver was a 
young man when he came to Mendon. He was 
their second pastor, and this was his second 
pastorate. The first was Jesse Brayman, who 
afterwards apostatized to the Universalists, and met 
his end by going into a well which caved in on him. 
Elder Weaver was ordained at Lysander, Onon- 
dagua County, near Syracuse, a much larger place 
than Syracuse at that time. He was settled there 
as pastor a couple of years. 

There were seven years of continuous revival 
during his eleven years' pastorate at Mendon. 
There were five years in which additions were made 
to the church by baptism at every communion. 
This was stated in his farewell sermon, which 
I went seven miles — from Kush, — to hear. I shall 
never forget the opening hymn, on that day : 



350 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

" Lord, what a wretched land is this, 

That yields us no supply. 
No cheering fruits, nor wholesome treea 

Nor streams of living joy. '* 

He was a great singer. Description would utterly 
fail to give an adequate idea of him as a singer. 
They used to say he sang everybody into the 
church. His singing might not have been called 
"fine" by the musical critics, but it was fairly 
weighed down with soul. Negatively it was not 
faulty, but positively it was heavenly to every devo- 
tional soul. 

He went down to New York to help the pastor 
of the Broome-street church, Israel Robords, in a 
protracted meeting ; and pulled off his coat like a 
workman in fact. During the series of meetings, 
the young men would say to one another : "Come, 
let's go down to Broome street to meeting. There 
is a man there who preaches like a man a-mowing. 
He pulls off his coat." 

He used to indulge at times in flights of real 
eloquence. One instance : The galleries of his 
church were crowded with young people one 
evening, when a number of them kept up a constant 
whispering and tittering. Turning towards them, 



ELDER WEAVER. 351 

he said, in a manner and with tones that cannot be 
described any more than they can be forgotten : 
"What an astonishing evidence of human depravity, 
that while the man of God is declaring the way of 
salvation by the Cross, young gentlemen and ladies 
in the gallery should be making sport of the very 
means of their salvation from sin and death — while, 
peradventure, God's recording angel stands ready 
to write * eternal damnation' on their hearts." The 
result : a number were struck with conviction ; 
among them, Miss Sally Roberts, afterwards the 
first wife of Hon. H. E. Smith, of Rochester, 
formerly of Fowlersville, New York, and Prince 
Benedict, known to hundreds. 

During his pastorate at Mendon, people, young 
and old, came on ordinary occasions to hear him 
from Victor, West and East Bloomfield, Perrington, 
Pittsford, Henrietta, Rush, Lima and Avon, varying 
from six to ten miles distant. Dr. Comstock, 
pastor of the Baptist church in Rochester, used to 
say, in pleasantry, when many of his congregation 
would go fourteen miles to hear Brother Weaver : 
"I guess we had better move our church out to 
Mendon, you like to go there to meeting so well, 
and so have but one pastor." 



352 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

All his associates loved and respected him, 
though they were not blind to his faults and did 
not indorse all his methods. The following are 
among his cotemporaries : O. C. Comstock, father 
of the missionary ; Robert Powell, Philander 
Kelsey, Norman Bent ley, I. Roberts, Marvin Allen, 
Ichabod Clark, David and Jesse Corwiu, Alfred 
Bennett, John Peck, cousin of J. M. Peck ; Horace 
Griswold, Aristarchus Willey, Joseph and Jesse 
Elliott, Zenas Case and Martin Coleman. These 
men, all ministers, and mostly self-educated, were 
raised up by God to meet the then-existing state of 
things. They did their pioneer duty faithfully. 
Their fragrant memory is a rich heritage to the 
Church, Let their names forever be embalmed in 
grateful hearts — among them, let Weaver be 
remembered gratefully as long as any. He was 
their equal. 



REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 353 



CHAPTER XXX. 

REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 

¥HE friends and churches in Rochester responded 
cheerfully to the wants of the West. The 
new interest, called the East avenue church, did a 
noble thing, also the Lake avenue church. Both 
of these had but recently been organized. The 
pastors of the First and Second churches were 
absent, but promised to help in the future. At a 
prayer-meeting of the latter church, I took up a 
collection of thirty dollars, and a brother from 
Richmond, Virginia, gave me twenty-five dollars. 
I attended the Monroe Association, and then left 
for my Western home, expecting to make short 
stops on the way. 

In looking over this tour and visit, it is one of 
the most gratifying to me personally of any I ever 
made — as I was permitted to have more time in the 
immediate communities where I had labored most 
and longest, and as I went over the same ground 



354 rK031 THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

where I had spent the days of my youth and the 
vigor of my manhood, and where I had a degree of 
success under the good Master's guiding hand and 
the influence of the Spirit. 

This reflection constantly impressed itself upon 
me, "What Divine goodness has followed you all the 
way in your life, even in the days 'of your guilt as 
an openly profane sinner and thoughtless wanderer 
from, a despiser of Jesus and His love to a lost 
world!" The only regret was, that I had made 
such poor improvement of the unnumbered blessings 
showered upon my pathway for over forty years of 
Christian life and public ministry. I had no good 
reason to complain in other respects. I had been 
kindly cared for, as a general rule. The brethren 
had always treated me with the greatest kindness 
and, in many instances, with needed leniency and 
Christian liberality. As I passed out of New York, 
I thought that, in all human probability, I should 
never see this land of my nativity again, until I 
should see it in its renovated condition, when 
"purified by fire" and our Jesus shall have come 
"the second time without sm unto salvation." I 
am now an old man, and cannot expect to come 
back again to this goodly old State, I thought, that 



REFLECTIONS ^HOME AGAIN. 355 

gave me birth and a field to labor in ; and so I said 
"Farewell," as I gazed on her green hills to enter 
Pennsj'lvania on my homeward-bound journey to 
Kansas. 

I spent one Sabbath at Coldwater and at 
Kinderhook, and arrived safely in Burlington in 
time to vote for Ulyssus S. Grant. The contract 
for building the church edifice was made and the 
work commenced, to be completed in the February 
following, but the severity of the winter prevented. 

The first week of January, 1873, was observed, 
as is often the case, by a union of all the churches 
in the place in a meeting for special prayer in 
behalf of sinners. Some indications of the Divine 
presence were manifested and the meetings con- 
tinued. About this time, I went to Junction City 
to attend a public religious meeting ; and being 
earnestly solicited by Brother Greene and his 
church to remain and assist in conducting some 
special services, with a view of awakening an 
interest in the things of salvation among the impeni- 
tent, I consented. The meetings were protracted, 
day and night, for three or four weeks, with good 
results to many of the church and to a few 
impenitent persons, when my health became quite 
impaired, and I felt it my duty to return home. 



356 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

[The preaching was most faithful and spiritual, 
and yet the results were not what we all had 
expected to see. There were some visible causes 
to prevent the accomplishment of the greatest good. 
The weather was, most of the time, severely cold. 
The house could not be made comfortable. Many, 
who would otherwise have been glad to come, 
remained away in consequence. The hidden causes 
of defeat in the case were undoubtedly still more 
potent, if possible — at least, it was not for lack 
of able, faithful preaching and personal effort at 
the time, that scores were not converted. May 
the seed sown in that inclement time yet bring 
forth a rich harvest. — Ed.] 



On my return home, I found the union meeting 
quite disturbed by a spirit of sectarian selfishness, 
quite out of character with the loud professions 
of love of "union" when the protracted effort was 
begun. One element of discord grew out of the 
views of one class of Christians in regard to the 
doctrine of personal holiness, this being made the 
'^all in all;" and another bone of contention was 
the control of the meeting, which was assumed by 
one denomination. This had alienated the other 
churches till it was thought best to separate, and 
let those work together who could in the spirit of 
the Gospel of peace. The work then took a new 



BEFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 357 

impetus, and continued till late in the spring. A 
large number were reclaimed who had become very 
remiss in religious duty, and a number of the 
impenitent converted to Jesus. 

Just as the meeting was at its height, I received a 
telegram from Central City, Colorado, urging me 
to come to the assistance of Reverend D. S. 
Bowker, up in the mountains of gold and silver. 
I responded in person. The great meeting in 
Denver, under the management of Reverend E. P. 
Hammond, had been in progress some time when 
1 arrived there, on my way up to Central. I 
stopped only long enough to take the next train, 
but long enough to see that God was in the place 
in very deed, doing great things, whereof all 
Christians were glad. Denver had not entirely 
recovered from the "hardness" it had acquired 
during the early gold fever days ; so that a pro- 
tracted meeting could not be expected to have such 
sway as it would in a more moral and church-going 
town. 

However, in proportion to the organized religious 
forces in the city, undoubtedly as much was accom- 
plished in Denver during the weeks of Mr. 
Hammond's stay as in Keokuk, Iowa, in Blooming- 



358 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

ton, Illinois, or Lawrence, Kansas. The city was 
shaken from center to circumference. The largest 
hall in the place was hardly sufficient to hold the 
crowds that pressed to hear the Word of Life 
preached and sung. The meeting held by special 
request of the proprietor in the most spacious and 
notorious dance-hall in the place one Sunday after- 
noon, when it was estimated that of the thousand 
present fully nine-tenths arose in response to the 
different invitations for prayer, is one never to be 
forgotten by those who had the privilege of being 
present. Mr. Hammond himself regarded it as 
one of the most solemn and powerful .meetings he 
ever attended. He was in the best of spirit for 
conducting such a strange meeting, being fresh 
bodily and being sustained by many earnest, praying 
Christians. The out-door meetings in Denver also 
were remarkable, many of them especially so in 
point of numbers and interest. Being present at 
nearly every meeting of the whole series during 
Mr. Hammond's stay, having been invited by 
Bro. Scott to assist in the meetings, I know that, 
under the circumstances, speculation and gambling 
being rife in the city and a general spirit of world- 
liness pervading society, the revival of 1873 was a 



REFLECTIONS HOME AGAIN. 359 

great success. Hundreds were renewed m spirit, 
and became new men and women in Christ. 



[The revival spirit extended to Georgetown, 
Central and Golden, high up in the mountains, and 
to Boulder, Evans, Greeley, Colorado Springs and 
Pueblo, on the lower level. When we went to 
Central, we found Brother Stimson hard at work, 
with all the elasticity of spirit and hopefulness of a 
young man, in a series of meetings at the new 
chapel of the Baptist church. Brother Bowker 
pastor. Whoever has labored, even for a short 
time, in a mining town, knows something of the 
hardness of the field. A mining town difi'ers from 
all others. Of all difficult places to impress 
religiously, such a town is the most difficult ; so 
conceded by those of Avide experience. Anything 
for the greatest good, that is lawful and right, being 
Father Stimson's motto, he consented to the plan 
proposed of discontinuing his meetings in the 
Baptist house, and going in, for the time of his stay 
at least, with Brother Hammond. So, although the 
field didn't seem entirely clear, he took his place 
as a "high-private," and worked with all the sim- 
plicity and earnestness of a young convert. 

After Brother Hammond's short stay in Central 
was over. Father Stimson had so endeared himself 
to the people and commended himself to the leaders, 
that he was invited to remain and conduct the union 
meetings. This he did as long as they continued 
"union" meetings proper, much to the satisfaction 
of those responsible in the conduct of the efi'ort, 



360 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

and to the awakening of sinners and the edification 
of the saints. The number of the latter in pro- 
portion to the population was not very great, and 
consequently their edification not a very long work. 
The awakening of the sinners was a much more 
tedious process. At the conclusion of the union 
effort, Brother Stimson began meetings again in 
Brother Bowker's chapel, which he conducted for a 
number of days, accomplishing no little good, and 
leaving a memory most fragrant among all good 
people. Mr. Hammond spoke to us in the highest 
terms of Father Stimson, whom he met for the first 
time during this winter's campaign in Colorado. 
He liked his spirit and admired his ability. It was 
on his strongly expressed advice on the subject of a 
suitable leader for the meeting in Central, as he was 
about to go, that Father Stimson was unanimously 
selected. 

From this lofty mountain town Father Stimson 
descended to the plain, and again found himself in 
Denver, where he was at once comfortably housed 
in Brother Scott's hospitable home, and where he 
found a most congenial atmosphere in which to work, 
side by side, with his young co -laborer of other 
days in Leavenworth and Kansas. The great union 
meetings in the evening at "Governor's Guard" Hall, 
had been discontinued on Mr. Hammond's departure 
for the mountain region of Central ; but Brother 
Stimson found a good state of revival interest in the 
meetings conducted by Brother Scott in his new 
lecture room just opened for worship. Here he 
remained and labored with great acceptance, pleas- 
ure and profit, for more than a week. The interest 
in the meeting increased during his stay. To the 
fact of this experienced help from Brother Stimson, 



REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 361 

both timely and cordially rendered — whoever saw 
him when he wasn't ready to work in a revival? — 
and to the fact of the Christian shrewdness of 
Brother Scott as a leader, is largely due the great 
additional strength acquired by the Baptist cause in 
Denver during the winter and spring of 1873. His 
coming to Brother Scott at the time he descended 
from Central, was like "the coming of Titus." 

Afrer staying some days, and helping most 
efficiently in gathering up the crumbs that nothing 
might be lost, Father Stimson returned home with 
the consciousness of having helped the Denver 
pastor do successfully that most difficult work, — 
close a long and deeply interesting protracted meet- 
ing, in a way to counteract none of the good 
accomplished, and bearing with him the blessings of 
hundreds who had met him for the first time during 
this working visit. He began at once to complete 
the meeting house at Burlington, and to make the 
arrangements for dedication. A few months were 
sufficient, and the neat little structure was added to 
the monuments of Father Stimson's zeal, enterprise 
and faith. To build a little house in a little place is 
often more of an undertaking than to build a large 
edifice in a large place. There is so little capital 
to work with — there are so few really independent 
workers — the pastor has often to create and sustain 
all the enthusiasm, besides doing three-fourths of 
the planning and engineering, not to mention the 
actual manual labor. The enterprise at Burlington 
was no exception. It's no reflection on the one or 
two male workers and the six or seven poor widows 
in the church, to say that if it had not been for 
Brother Stimson, or if his place had not been 
supplied by some equally hopeful and courageous 



362 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

pastor, the church would not now have a house of 
worship or any immediate prospect of one. And in 
the midst of hard times the outlook would not be 
very cheering. A fitting close of an earnest, practi- 
cal life, is the beautiful little chapel at Burlington, 
an account of the dedication of which we copy from 
the Kansas Evangel^ a paper which in its infancy 
has done much for the cause in Kansas, and which 
is one of the brightest stars of hope for the future. 
—Ed.] 



The new Baptist meeting house at Burlington was dedicated on 
Sabbath, July 20th. It was a lovely day, and every arrangement was 
complete. No apologies for faifure had to be made. A novel plan was 
hit upon, which we will charge up against Brother Stimson, pastor, 
for conducting the services. We will say to begin with, it was a 
success. It was understood by all the denominations in the place (and 
they have as many as any tawnr-in Kansas,) that the Baptists would 
monopolize the whole Sabbath services of the town. Accordingly, 
appointments were made for two services at the same hour, both 
morning and evening, one at the Methodist Episcopal church, and the 
ministers to alternate in the services. Brother Gunn, of Atchison, and 
the Topeka pastor were the preachers. The congregations were large, 
and Brother Gunn's sermons, at least, were good. 

The new church is a fine, proud structure, 32x55 feet in size, with 
arched ceiling and well furnished and located. A new organ, chande- 
liers, a cosy orchestra, fine pulpit, baptistry, and carpets for the aisles, 
make up some of the furniture. It is, in brief, the neatest church in 
the place. The church membership is only about twenty, and none of 
them wealthy ; the most of them poor. As we listened to the story of 
their struggles to build this house for the Lord, we could but thank 
God that He had given to His cause there such noble representatives. 

Brother Stimson, though having reached his three score years and 
ten, is still brave as a warrior, and is hardly conscious of his failing 
strength. Through his efforts, principally, the work has been done. 
What he could not get others to do, he did himself. The high esteem 
in which he is held by the community gave him courage, and enabled 
him to succeed. 



REFLECTIONS HOME AGAIN. 363 

"We must mention in particular, among other faithful workers, 
Brother "William "Wigston, a mason by trade, who was Brother Stim- 
son's right hand man. Before he came to Burlington, he took the 
contract to build the abutments of a bridge across the Ohio river. He 
then promised the Lord that whatever he made out of the contract, 
above common wages, he would give to Him. The Lord blessed him. 
After finishing the job, he decided to come to Burlington. Before 
reaching there, he sent forward a beautiful Bible, hymn book and 
communion set. Trye to his promise, when he arrived he at once put 
$500 cash into this meeting house, besides building the foundation and 
putting in the baptistry. He is now sexton, and delights in giving 
much of his time to the service of the Lord. Would that our churches 
had more of such men. 

At the close of the morning service, the pastor read a statement rela- 
tive to the financial condition of the church. It was found that the 
house had cost $2,800, acd that a balance of $800 remained unprovided 
for. Collections and pledges were taken sufficient to reduce this 
amount to $500. 

We left this little band hopeful, having received a fresh inspiration 
to work from the example set by the Burlington Church. 



364 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS — ^MISCELLANY. 

vjJeFORE I came to Kansas, I had an exalted 
-L>^ idea of the character of the American Indian 
as a noble specimen of human nature. In some 
respects he really is so ; as for instance , in his native 
condition, as a muscular and well built anim'al, 
capable of great endurance, and a "good feeder." He 
has intellect sufficient to be cunning, and to make a 
first-class tyrant in any situation where he has the 
chance. With an Indian, "might is right." Hence 
all the females, in every tribe I have seen or heard 
of, the mothers, wives and daughters are the most 
abject slaves, compelled to do all the drudgery in 
the wigwam and on the hunt ; see to all the ponies, 
bring all the wood and water, dress all the game, 
tan all the buffalo hides, and take care of the 
papooses besides. A professed Christian Indian acts 
like all the rest in these respects. The Osage 
Indians are doubtless the best developed specimens 



MY VIEWS OF THE mDIANS. 365 

in a physical point of view, of all the tribes in Kan- 
sas. And they are an unrelenting, revengeful set of 
savages, never forgiving a real or supposed injury. 

I once had occasion to be among them three or 
four days, and got perfectly cured of all my notions 
of Indian superiority, Fenimore Cooper and the 
Quaker peace agents to the contrary notwithstand- 
ing. I shall waste but few more tears over their 
condition, at my time of life. I hope they will all 
inherit "happy hunting grounds" when they are 
through with the chase here. Only I am thankful 
that I am not called to labor to prepare them for 
the enjoyment of those grounds. I don't think I 
ever had the faith to work forty years and see no 
fruit of my labor. The Modocs are no exception to 
the general Indian rule. 

A gentlemanly Indian agent had invited a number 
of friends to go with him and his escort to the 
Osage Reserve, as he Was going to pay the annuities. 
So, several ladies and gentlemen of us started on a 
pleasure trip. Probably none of them will ever 
want to go on a similar pleasure excursion, espe- 
cially the ladies. If you refuse to eat with an 
Indian when he has made a feast, he won't forgive 
the insult without a large present of some kind. 



366 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

The feast on this occasion was dried buffalo meat, 
strong coffee, aad biscuits made of the best of flour 
and baked before the fire on sheet-iron pans. These 
biscuits were the only thing we relished, and we 
ceased to relish them after we saw the squaws mix 
them up. We never took a second meal with as 
much appetite as the first. The dried meat is cut 
into fine pieces, put into a kettle and then boiled in 
water, thickened with flour till it is of the consis- 
tency of soup. This is turned into a large pan, 
around which all the company sit on the grass, and 
help themselves by dishing out the mixture with 
their spoons. No plates. Indians, white men and 
women, compose the company. No squaws. The 
coffee is dipped off as you need it in little tin cups. 
After the Indians (squaws are simply squaws) and 
the guests are served, the squaws and papooses have 
their meal, if there is any left — and by eating all, 
including coffee-grounds, no matter how much is 
left. Then the dogs come up and wash the dishes, 
and all is ready for the next meal. 

I wished to post the ladies of the company on all 
the facts of Indian life, and told them of the assis- 
tance the dogs rendered at each meal. They at 
once begged to be excused from appearing at table 



MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS. 367 

a second time. We excused them; but if the 
Indians did, we never knew it. They inquired for 
the "(7a7i a mah pojpo''' — the pretty women. One 
of the party told a lie by saying that they were sick 
in the wagons. At which the chief said : "Eat 
too much, ha?" Our friend nodded "yes." I 
forgave the lie, and that was just as well as if 
Father Schoemaker, the Catholic priest, had done 
it. The women certainly were sick at their 
stomachs whenever they thought of eating with 
the Indians. 

This Father Schoemaker has been among them 
over forty years. He is a quaint character, old but 
vigorous. He belongs to the Jesuits. He has 
given names to streams and other natural objects 
in the region of the Mission, and has built some 
very substantial buildings for the uses of his church ; 
but, although the Mission has been established 
forty-eight years, and every possible appliance has 
been used to civilize and educate and Jesuitize this 
tribe, yet, up to this time, not the first son or 
daughter of the Osages has been converted to 
Christianity, or even to Catholicism I I mean a 
full-blooded Osage. A few French traders have 
been adopted into the tribe, and have married Osage 



368 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

women. Their children have become Catholics, but 
not civilized. If the gray-haired monk of a priest 
who hums his Catholic songs about his secluded 
home in the forest, takes any comfort at the retro- 
spect of a long life spent among the Indian tribe 
with the results such as I have indicated, he is not 
begrudged it by me. I wouldn't disturb his dream. 
The Government has been induced to give this old 
man a section of land for his services at the Osage 
Mission, now in Neosho County ! It is understood 
he began his labors among the tribe by telling them 
that Jesus was a great war Chief, and his apostles 
"braves," who accomplished great exploits in the 
slaughter of their enemies. The results have been 
little or no more cheering where the Gospel has 
been preached to them, I am compelled to say. 

Efforts have been made to educate them in the 
rudiments — reading, writing and arithmetic ; and 
yet, not one in ^ve hundred can do the simplest 
example in addition or subtraction. Still, this old 
Jesuit must be made a beneficiary of the Govern- 
ment to the amount of several hundred thousand 
dollars in all ! I blush to say that the effects of 
the Protestant labors among the Indians have not 
been much more encouraging. The mission among 



MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS. 369 

the Sacs and Fox tribes by the Methodists, and 
the Delawares by the Baptists, have been a little 
more successful than such efforts generally. Rev. 
G. W. Pratt, now of Leavenworth, accomplished a 
good work in the latter tribe, as long as he remained 
among them. The same is true of the Ottawas, for 
whom Father Meeker, a godly man, labored for 
thirty years.* But, as the white man came in with 
whisky and its fore-runner, beer, the whole tribe 
apostatized to drunkenness and a life of laziness ; 
and, although the Baptist denomination and the 
United States Government expended great sums of 
money to civilize and Christianize them, all that 
remains is the remnant of the school proj^erty at 
Ottawa and a little quarter-blood Indian girl, who 
hears her voice echo through those halls of "lite- 
rature and science." 

If the missionaries now in Kansas, working 
industriously and self-denyingly among the enter- 
prising immigrants in our new cities and settlements 
which will soon be an honor to the nation and 
humanity, were to make no more permanent, prac- 



* The press that S. S. Prouty used in printing the Neosho Valley 
Register, in 1859, was brought to this country by Father Meel^er, 
forty years ago 



370 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

tical impression on the white inhabitants, the 
societies they represent would withhold all support. 
They don't come far short of it, in some cases, now. 

The philosophy of the Indian nature, I do not 
attempt to explain. I do know this much : 

First, The Indian has no relish for intellectual 
improvement or moral advancement. He loves 
whisky, tobacco and all such vile stimulants. 

Second, He will not work, under any circum- 
stances. Even those who have been claimed as 
partially civilized, will not labor. 

Third, The large majority of the Government 
agencies among them have only tended to increase 
their savage, hopeless life. 

Fourth, The exceptions found to the above esti- 
mate of Indian character are persons who have some 
white blood in their veins, like Eli S. Parker, a 
noble man. Show me an exception among pure- 
bloods ! In view of all I have seen and learned of 
the Indian, I am half inclined to believe in Darwin : 
at least I should not have blamed him much if he 
had come into personal contact with the Indian 
before bringing out his "development theory." 

Fifth, Gratitude is not found in the Indian's 
vocabulary, nor is it an element of his nature. An 



MISCELLANY. 371 

Indian never considers himself under obligations to 
any one. 

I have entertained Indians in the most hospitable 
manner I was capable of under the circumstances, 
giv^iug him the best my home afforded, and then in 
a few days called on him and remamed over night, 
and in the morning have paid a bill of two dollars 
and fifty cents for the entertainment. 



THE MAN WHO FOUND OUT THAT HE COULD 
ANSWER HIS OWN PRAYERS. 

Deacon W , of B , in Western New York, 

a good Christian man, but somewhat formal and 
prolix in his family devotions, was more orthodox 
than practical in his Christianity. One morning while 
at family prayer, there came to the door a poor man 
with a bag under his arm, to get from the deacon a 
small grist of wheat for his needy family. It was 
a time of great scarcity in breadstuffs. While 
listening to the deacon's supplication, which included 
among other good things, a request that the Lord 
would remember the poor in the place that were in 
want of bread, his courage and confidence grew 
apace. Bis soul was filled with gratitude and hope, 



372 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

as he stood and listened to the words of the deacon : 
"Now, O Lord, open thy hand, and in thy ever 
liberal Providence, supply the wants of the needy, 
feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Thou canst 
do it. Almighty Father, as giving dost not impov- 
erish Thee. There are many in our commimity 
sick, and many poor that are suffering for bread. 
O, Lord, supply them in the riches of thy fullness, 
for Christ's sake. Amen." 

Poor Mr. J , who had stood at the door all 

this time, could but weep as he heard the words of 
the deacon, a member with him of the same church, 
and he said to himself, "I shall get the wheat;" at 
the same time thanking God that he belonged to a 
church that had such a sympathizing deacon. He 
rapped on the door and was admitted. After 
answering kind inquiries about his sick wife and 
little ones, he made known the object of his visit — 
he wished to get a grist of wheat. "Well, well. 

Brother J , I should like to accommodate you, 

but wheat is two dollars a bushel in Eochester, and 
I think I must raise some money in a few days. I 
am sorry I can't help you in your time of great 
want while your family is sick; but I wish you 
could get it somewhere else." Mr. J went 



MISCELLANY. 373 

away with a heavy heart, having suddenly lost his 
confidence in the deacon's sincerity. 

A little fair-haired, black-eyed grandson that had 
been kneeling with his grand-parent and heard him 
pray for the poor, looked up in his face and said, 
"Well, Grandpa, if I could have answered my 
prayer this morning as easy as you could, I would 

have given Mr. J a bag full of wheat." 

"Would you, Charley?'' inquired the old man. 
"Yes, I would, because that is what you asked the 

Lord to do." " Call him back, Charley." Mr. J 

returned, and the deacon handed him the granary 
key and said, "Go to the barn and fill youi- bag. 

Brother J , and if you want anything while your 

family is sick, come here and get it. I have just 
found out that I can answer my own prayers, and 
shall endeavor to do it the remainder of my short 
life." 

On Sabbath he arose in his place in the meeting 
house, after sermon, and asked the pastor if he 
could have the privilege of speaking. Of course 
consent was given, and he related the facts as above 
stated, and concluded by sayuig, "I have just learned 
by this incident that God has so arranged His divine 
economy as to enable me and others to answer our 
own prayers in five cases out of eight." 



374 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 
A SHORT WAY WITH A SKEPTIC. 

An old infidel asked me once to explain the 
reason why God made the children of Israel travel 
forty years in the wilderness, when they could hare 
crossed to the promised land in four days and a half ? 
I told him I would think the matter over, and call 
on him with a solution of the matter in a few days, 
and then, turning on my heel, said I would also 
give him a question to answer at the same time, or 
now. "It is this : Anatomical professors tell us 
that the canals in the human body are about nine 
yards in length. Now, I want you to explain to me 
why they should be crossing backward and for- 
ward through the chest and abdomen to twenty- 
seven feet in length, when one straight canal about 
twenty-two inches long would have answered?" 
"Well, Elder, you have got me. I will quit if you 
wiU." 



THE EFFECT OF A PERSONAL APPLICATION OF THE 

TRUTH. 

I went to assist a Brother S in Western New 

York, where a deacon had struck a neighbor's hog 
and killed it ; but he would not confess it or pay 
the damage. The pastor and best members of the 



MTSCELLAKY. 375 

church were greatly grieved, all being confident that 
he was guilty. But it could not he proved, as two 
trials had been held — one by the church and one by 
a legal court — all to no purpose. The deacon was 
quite officious, always in the front seat, ready to 
exhort, to sing or pray ; and every time he would 
begin to speak or pray, the man whose hog the 
deacon had killed would get up and go out, along 
with a number of personal friends who sympathized 
with him in his hatred of the deacon. By and by, 
when the deacon was through, they would all come 
back and take their seats. I had heard of these 
movements before from a minister who had been 
there on a visit, and gone away mortified at the 
ill success of the effort made, and indignant at the 
obstinate deacon. 

I got there on Saturday afternoon, and took a 
survey of the situation at the evening meeting. I 
was satisfied from what I saw, who the man, Deacon 

S , was. That night I found the pastor and his 

wife all weighed down like a cart with sheaves, on 
account of the state of things in the church. 
Sabbath came and passed, with about the same 
results. The evening was approaching, and the 
thought of having one man block up the way of 



376 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

salvation to a church, while smuers were looking on 
with a degree of triumph over the inconsistency and 
open wickedness of one of the members, pressed 
upon me with great weight. The question had 
become a serious one with me, "Can I do or say 
an}i;hing to make this faulty brother do right, and 
remove this awful stone of stumbling? What shall 
I preach about?" I finally fixed upon this passage 
in the fifty-first Psalm, verses 10, 11, 12 and 13: 
"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew 
a right spirit within me. Cast me not from thy 
presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. 
Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation ; and 
uphold me with thy free Spirit. Then will I teach 
trangressors thy ways ; and sinners shall be con- 
verted unto thee." I went on to show what a 
wicked man David was on one occasion, even after 
Grod had called him "a man after His own heart." 
I was about to close and saw that the deacon was as 
unmoved as a stone, although the rest of the con- 
gregation were manifesting the deepest interest. 
"Is it possible," I thought, "that I must close this 
sermon and meetino: this evenino^ and the deacon 
remain impenitent for his wrong, and the man he 
had injured go to hell over his obstinate conduct?" 



MISCELLANT. 377 

I leaned over the high desk and addressed myself 
personally to the deacon thus: "Now, Deacon 

S , as you love the salvation of your neighbor 

A from eternal perdition, and as you killed his 

hog', and you know that all your brethren believe 
you did, go this minute to him and confess your sin, 
and ask his forgiveness. Don't let one miserable 
swine keep you from the smiles of Jesus, and 

Mr. A out of the blessed Kingdom." And 

while I was yet speaking, he arose and went to 
A , took him by the hand and made a full con- 
fession of all, saying, "Neighbor A , I killed 

your hog and I am sorry for it. I hope you will 
forgive me. And if you will come to my house 
to-morrow, I will pay you the full worth of the hog 

and the cost of the suit." A broke down, 

acknowledged himself a sinner, and was soon believ- 
ing in Jesus as his Savior. This was the starting 
point of a great work. I staid and preached day 
and night for five weeks. The pastor baptized more 
than eighty who were converted during the meeting ; 
and the church was restored to harmony. 



378 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPlT 
TAKING A MAN AT HIS WORD. 

When I had returned to reside in Warsaw the 
second time, there was still living in that community 
an old friend, who was addicted to coining jokes on 
the nunisters, if practical jokes, all the better. I 
met him in the village one day, and asked him if I 
could get some hay of him, it being haying time. 
"Well, yes, Elder, you come up with your wife and 
make us a visit, and I will put in all the hay you can 
carry home in your buggy. I don't expect to get 
anything out of ministers for hay, as they hardly 
ever pay for anything of the kind, even if they agree 
to." "Well, Mr. B.," I said, "I hardly think Mrs. 
Stimson would be willing to ride with a bundle of 
hay, but I will come up with a one-horse wagon and 
get a "bundle" when it is cut. When shall I come?" 
"Next Monday, if it don't rain." 

So I went and got a large one-horse lumber 
wagon, and put on a common two horse hay rack. 
I had a heavy, stout horse that weighed about twelve 
hundred. So oflf I started with a boy to help me 
load. The hay was all put up in the nicest order in 
the meadow. I had loaded on eleven big bunches 
when Mr. B. came up, and after surveying the whole 
establishment, said: "That's what you call a buggy, 



MISCELLANY. 379 

is it?'* "It's a one-horse wagon, Mr. B., and thafs 
what I told you I should come with." So he took 
hold nud helped me. We turned to the next row of 
bunches, and put on eleven more, makhig twenty- 
two in all. "There," said he, "go ahead; but you 
will never get home with it, and if you don't, you 
shall pay for it." When I got to the village, I had 
it weighed. It made just twenty-two hundred and 
fifty weight. Mr. B. has not yet heard the last of 
the "bundle" of hay in a one-horse wagon, and has 
concluded to "come" no more dry jokes on poor 
ministers. 



I HAVE OBSERVED that there are two things about 
which the mass of mankind are determined to be 
humbugged, Religion and Medicine. 

A religion of fanatical incantations, Mormonism, 
Spiritualism, Universalism, Heathenism and Devil- 
ism, all cater to the vitiated tastes and depraved 
desires of poor human nature. And men naturally 
appear to prefer any one of these to a knowledge of 
the "Truth as it is in Jesus," that is pure and unde- 
filed, and that is consistent with good common sense 
and sound judgment. 



380 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

The same is true in regard to Medicine. Men 
will employ quack physicians, and take quack nos- 
trums, much sooner than take really useful remedies. 
I heard a doctor of the quack school tell a family 
that had a sick daughter, that her complaint was of 
the heart, ^. e. "the heart-string had become so 
relaxed and elongated, that the heart had fallen 
down below its proper place, and as it swung back 
and forth like a clock-pendulum, it struck on the 
sides of her chest and produced a soreness ; " and 
as a remedy he prescribed what he called "pucker 
root" and alum, sweetened with honey, to contract 
the heart-string. The dear family thought he under- 
stood the case exactly. The next week the poor 
sufferer died, and I attended her funeral. I thought 
he ought to be classed with "Dr. Terrible," who, it 
is said, bled the devil, using a pickaxe for a lancet. 



I HAVE OBSERVED, and am convinced, that rich 
ministers are, as a general thing, a drug upon the 
church and congregation. If they are able to preach 
to the church for nothing, they become indolent, 
penurious and sleepy. I never knew of a church 
that paid their minister up promptly, that was not 



MISCELLANY. 381 

happy and prosperous. A church that is always 
pleading as an excuse for not giving to charitable 
objects, that they must pay their minister first, but 
that are constantly in debt to him and the sexton, is 
a church the poor in which are obliged to take care 
of themselves, or go to the poor-house. 

Persons that come late to church are tlie first to 
complain of long sermons ; and those that sleep in 
sermon time are the first to detect the defects in the 
discourse. 



ELDER JACOB KNAPP IN ROCHESTER. 

I was present in the meeting at the First Baptist 
church in Eochester, New York, that Brother Knapp 
was conducting, and as many have regarded the 
"lightning" story as an exaggeration, I feel called 
upon to confirm the facts as related in his autobiog- 
raphy, edited by Dr. R. Jeffery. It is true in all its 
particulars. The first volley of brickbats had been 
thrown at the church. The pulpit then stood in the 
end next to the street, with a large window behind 
it ; so that the mob had a fair chance at the person 
of the preacher, whom they hated with a cruel 
hatred. The most blinding lightning that I ever 



382 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

remember to have seen, flashed at the very moment, 
flooding the whole of Fitzhugh and Buffalo streets 
with a blaze of light, accompanied with the most 
stunning thunder-burst. The mob fled in such haste 
that not ten of them were left in the street in five 
minutes' time. To saint and sinner it was evident 
that God had interposed to defend His truth, and 
the preacher from violence. 



PASTORATES. 

I have been pastor of fourteen churches in forty- 
three years, and have had a salary all the way fr©m 
one hundred and fifty dollars to sixteen hundred 
dollars per year. I have never been able to discover 
the difference between a small one and a large one. 
Each would come out about the same. Perhaps the 
large one was a little more gratifying to my family. 



WHAT GOD HAS DONE FOR ME AND BY ME IN 

FORTY YEARS. 

I have preached over ten thousand sermons, such 
as they have been. I have baptized eighteen hun- 
dred and eighty-seven professed believers in Jesus, 



MISCELLANY. 383 

the Savior of sinners ; among that number, fifteen 
ministers, three of them Pedobaptists, two Meth- 
odists, and one Presbyterian. I have attended six 
hundred and thirty-four funerals. I have solemnized 
four hundred and twenty-eight marriages. I have 
been present at one hundred and fifty-four ordina- 
tions and organizations of Baptist churches. I have 
voted for President of the United States from Gen- 
eral Andrew Jackson to Grant, nine in all. I didn't 
vote for all that were elected ! I am thankful for 
that. My sins are so many less, as there have been 
worthless men among the nine. I have assisted more 
than three hundred poor fleeing fugitives, from the 
house of bondage of Southern slavery into Canada, 
and in many instances at the risk of being imprisoned 
for the violation of the fugitive slave law, for which 
a wicked, pro-slavery congress was guilty. And I 
would do the same thing to-morrow, under the same 
circumstances. So miich for repentance on that 
subject. 



I HAVE TRAVELED in tweuty-two of the States 
of the Union, in both the Canadas and in "New 
Jersey" — in all, miles enough to girdle the earth 
four times. I have preached in them all, except 



384 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Texas — and there I was not permitted to remain 
long enough, as the rebel "bushwhackers" cared 
more for our horses and watches than for our 
Gospel. We thought, as the lame captain expressed 
it, "Doubtless there is to be a great battle, and as 
we shall have to retreat in the end, therefore, as I 
am lame, I will go now." So we left Texas as soon 
as good horses would convey us out safely into 
Kansas. What I saw of it, convinced me that it was 
then not a good State to be in, except for cattle 
and horse-thieves. And I have had no special 
desire to return. 



A MODERN ZACCHEUS. 

In one of our precious revivals in Western New 
York, a time when all the community were spell- 
bound by the Spirit of God, a case occurred similar 
to the one when Jesus was on earth, recorded in 
Luke xix. 5-6 : 

"And when Jesus came to the place. He looked 
up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zaccheus, 
make haste, and come down ; for to-day I must 
abide at thy house." 

"And he made haste, and came down, and 
received Him joyfully," 



MISCELLANY. 385 

A young gentleman, of high standing among his 
friends and the wealthy, was an attendant upon the 
meeting in progress. He became quite affected and 
solemn, but for a long time made no effort to come 
out boldly and confess Christ. One afternoon, just 
after the meeting had opened, he sent up to the desk 
a short notice y requesting the pastor to go with him 
to the study, as he wished to see him on important 
business at once. I left the meeting in charge of a 
deacon, and retired to the study, as requested. He 
commenced by saying, as soon as we took our seats : 
"Mr. Stimson, the facts I am about to divulge will 
ruin me for this life and perhaps for the life to come. 
It is this : I was a clerk in a store in the city 
of — — , State of Michigan ; and while there 
employed, I was guilty of purloining some very 
costly silks and satins, which I have now in my 
trunk, as I have never had an opportunity of 
disposing of them; being, too, under the constant 
impression that I should be detected if I offered 
them for sale. Now, God, by His Spmt and the 
truth, has arrested me, and four long weeks I have 
been like a man on coals of fire. Now, I ask you, 
as my pastor, what to do ; and I will do it, if it 
disgraces me and my family, and I have to lie in 



386 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

the State's prison for years, I will do it ; for to live 
under this burden of mind, I cannot any longer. 
To me it is a living death, by day and by night." 
I was overwhelmed and amazed at the confession 
of the young merchant, as he was then a partner 
in a thriving business in the village. I locked the 
door, and then engaged in a moment of prayer with 
him. When we arose from our knees, I said : 
"Now, my young friend, you go and get your trunk, 
with the goods in it, and start for Michigan at once ; 
and when you arrive at the place, call the firm 
together, and, without gloss or guile, confess your 
sin, and throw yourself upon their clemency, and 
be prepared to take what follows." He at once 
said, "I will do it." At his request, I wrote a letter 
to the parties wronged, stating the circumstances 
of his confession and of his relations in life and 
business standing. I then sent him with a boy to 
drive my buggy to the depot, four miles away. 
The next day he arrived at the place of his destina- 
tion, restored the goods and made an unvarnished 
confession, and received a full pardon from the 
parties. These Christian gentlemen, for such they 
were, wrote me a most cordial and Christian letter, 
in which they expressed confidence in the ^eep 



MISCELLANY. 387 

repentance of the young man ; and said that they 
had not missed the goods, and never should have 
known of his thieving, if he had not confessed it. 
He soon came before the church, related his expe- 
rience, expressing himself as a great sinner against 
God. To this day, he is an exemplary, honorable 
Christian man in one of the Eastern cities. How 
much better and wiser the course of this young 
man, than that pursued by many, who, rather than 
expose themselves and their fellow-men, go on with 
a canker constantly eating away at their souls ; 
feeling every moment that God is against them, 
being cognizant of all the facts of their wickedness, 
and Jesus continually inviting to come down and 
give them entertainment in the homes of their 
hearts. Those who comply, find pardon and peace. 
Near twenty years have passed, and no one 
has ever known the above facts but the parties 
concerned. I can keep a secret, if I never have 
joined a secret lodge. 



388 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXXn. 



SERMONS — ALMOST A CHRISTLO^. 



"Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a 
Christian. 

" And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all 
that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, 
except these bonds."— Acts xxvi. 28-29. 



MAN is a religious being. Religion is an 
inherent principle in his nature, raising him 
above all other animal tribes. His instincts and 
aspirations place him on an altitude above all the 
residents of earth. Being a religious intelligence, 
he is possessed of all the endowments of immor- 
tality. He is responsible for his conduct to the 
remotest limit of its influence. K it were not for 
his upward instincts, his degradation would be 
hopeless. If he didn't care for immortality, he 
would be beyond moral reach. 

Men are compelled unwittingly to pay tribute and 
respect to the Christian religion, even when they 



SERMONS. 389 

know nothing by experience of its real merits. 
Thus, Agrippa, his heathen conscience stirred by 
Paul's masterly defense of its great fundamental 
truths, cried out : "Almost thou persuadest me to 
be a Christian." Men have only to let go their 
hold on sin and let their principles, which are at 
best but little better than sins, fly to the wuids, and 
multitudes would be led to make the same excla- 
mation, and to look at the cross by faith, which 
would result in making them Christians altogether. 

Let us proceed to notice : 

I. What constitutes a Christian in reality. 

n. What is it to become almost a Christian, and 
yet fail. 

m. Persuasion for all men to become Christians 
in fact. 

1. A Christian is a regenerated sinner. The 
Holy Spirit regenerated him. There can be no 
substitute for regeneration. Very many are deceived 
by human substitutes. As one says : "I am a 
Christian by birthright. My parents had me bap- 
tized in my infancy. I have learned the catechism 
and keep the law of our church, and have been 
confirmed as a true child of God by the bishop or 
priest." All this gives no claim to being a Christian, 



390 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT 

and is a trap of Satan to deceive and ruin the souls 
of men. There must be a radical change of his 
entire moral nature. He must be born again, as 
John says, i. 12, 13 : 

"But as many as received Him, to them gave He 
power to become the sons of God, even to them that 
believe on His name : 

"Which were bom, not of blood, nor of the will 
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.'' 

Jesus taught the same doctrine to Nicodemus 
(John iii. 3, 4, 5) : 

"Jesus answered and said unto him. Verily, verily, 
I say unto thee. Except a man be born again, he 
cannot see the kingdom of God. 

"Nicodemus saith unto Him, How can a man be 
born when he is old ? Can he enter the second time 
into liis mother's womb, and be born? 

"Jesus answered, Yerily, verily, I say unto thee, 
Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, 
he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." 

This, beloved, is the only way of making a 
Christian in reality. This work of the Spirit will 
manifest itself in repentance of sin, by faith in the 
Son of God, and in obedience to the law of His 
Gospel. This will make a man a Christian in fact. 



SERMONS. 391 

He will be a new creature. "Therefore, if any man 
he in Christ, he is a new creature : old things 
are passed away; behold, all things are become 
new." (II Cor. v. 17.) He will be a Christian in 
reality, and not by any mummery of human 
invention. 

2. A Christian is controlled in his conduct by 
principle and not by emotion. Multitudes act from 
the emotional part of their nature, and deceive 
themselves by thinking that this emotion is a 
ground of belief that they are Christians. Nothing 
is more delusive and destructive of their present 
and eternal interest in Christ. Religion is a 
principle^ and all the duties of a religious life 
must have their base in it. Emotional religion is 
a prolific source of apostacy from Christ and the 
Church. Many ministers of Christ contribute to 
this state of things seen so often in the declension 
of those who "did run well," by saying, in sub- 
stance, "get up your feelings, and then go to work 
for Grod." Thus, many are waiting for the tide 
of their emotion to rise and their zeal to be inflated, 
so that they can float into religious enjoyment; 
when the great efibrt should be to get down upon 
the solid rock of pure Christian principle, of 
"Christ in you the hope of glory." 



392 FPwOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Far be it from me to say anything against emotion. 
It acts upon the Christian as a fair breeze does upon 
the ship ; it helps it into port. With a favoring 
wind he sings : 

" Homeward bound, Homeward bound.'* 

But if his ship is unsound in the hull, every increas- 
ing breeze only makes her creak, and hastens its 
destruction. It is a sorry case to have the wind 
blow fair and to be constantly crying to the men at 
the pumps : "Heave ho ! boys, heave ho ! boys, we 
shall all go to the bottom if you don't work the 
pumps." So it is with your sentimental professor, 
who is void of true principle, based on Christ's 
finished work of atonement. 

3. A true Christian applies himself to the work 
of Christ in doino^ somethino^ and all he can to 
extend His Kingdom among men. He will seek out 
opportunities to develop the power of the Gospel. 
To him the world is the field, and while he is in it 
he will find something to do in the private interview, 
in the family, in the Sunday school, in the prayer- 
meeting, sowing beside all waters. He will get 
good by doing good. The best proof of one's 
Christianity, consists in appljdng one's self to 
Christ's work. 



SERMONS. 393 

We have now seen what a Christian is in reality. 
Let us ask, 

II. What it is to be almost a Christian, and yet 
fail? 

A person, having his birth and being in a country 
where the Gospel is proclaimed in ajl its fullness, 
and where he has enjoyed the constant means of 
salvation, being still without hope in Christ, the 
Savior of sinners, may be said to be "almost a 
Christian." A stranger to human depravity and to 
the obstinate state of mind to which the sinner is 
habituated, would say, in looking at the sweet, 
heavenly influences by which they are surrounded : 
these, who hear oft-repeated invitations to embrace 
Christ, who are the objects of the wooings of the 
Spirit of God, surely are all Christians. But, 
what is the fact? Only almost, not quite yet 
possessed of a good hope, not quite yet destitute 
of a good hope. They can say, the land that gave 
me birth is denominated a " Christian " country ; and 
yet, the truth remains they are "without God and 
without hope in the world" — almost Christians, but 
making the sad failure of neglecting the one thing 
needful in the very midst of the richest privileges. 
Not to be able to say, "I know that my Kedeemer 



394 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

liveth," is to make the fatal mistake of all time, is 
to come short of the end of creation. 

2. There are very many who acknowledge the 
cardinal truths of the Bible, the reality of heaven, 
the awful existence of hell and the propriety of a 
coming judgment day, in which all the world are to 
be judged ; they attend upon the ordinary and even 
extraordinary means of grace, and yet have never 
yielded to the claims of the Gospel, and are only 
almost Christians. "His Spirit has striven with me 
by day and by night. His people have prayed for 
me, and companions that loved Him have invited 
me, my Christian parents have wept over me, I have 
had my foot on the very threshold of the Kingdom 
of the blessed Church of Christ, and yet I have 
no abiding evidence that I have been regenerated 
by the Spirit of God ; no comforting assurance 
of connection with Jesus.; I am only almost a 
Christian. I have only desired heaven as a refuge 
into which to escape from the storm of indignant 
wrath that will one day overtake me ; a retreat to 
keep me out of perdition. I have no relish for the 
society of the pure in heart that surround the throne 
of God and the Lamb. I was almost a Christian 
once, but I have made a sad failm-e, an eternal fail- 



SER3IONS. 395 

lire." This, doubtless, will be the regret of many. 
They will have to appropriate the language of one of 
old, *The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and 
I am not saved.' Procrastination and the love of 
sin have kept me in the state of being almost a 
Christian. 

Pauline Colburn was a young lady brought up 
under the most sweet influences of a kind and relig- 
ious family, and often the subject of deep impres- 
sions of her condition as a sinner out of Christ. 
Constant in her place in the house of God ; every 
Sabbath joining her voice in the songs of worship ; 
she often told me as her pastor, that she meant to 
yield to the claims of the blessed Jesus. So tender 
were her feelings, that one would think she was not 
far from the kingdom of God, only not quite ready 
to offer herself up unto the Master then and there. 
She was in the gallery on Sunday, and sang as 
sweetly as ever. She wept while in conversation, 
but hesitated, and went home. On Monday morning 
she arose from the breakfast table, and retired to her 
room, exclaiming : "I have been almost a Christian, 
but never loved Christ ; now I am dying," and in 
five minutes she was a corpse. Almost a Christian I 
Poor girl ! Almost a Christian ! 

But let us conclude by noticing : 



396 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO TIHE PULPIT. 

III. The Persuasions presented for all men to 
become Christians. 

^ 1. Sin in its very nature and tendency is destruc- 
tive of all human happiness, present and prospective. 
God hath said : "There is no peace to the wicked." 
How true this is in all the history of sin and sinners ! 
We have a way of graduating sin. "Small sins," 
"little sins," are every day spoken of among men. 
It is well to remember that : " Sin is the transgres- 
sion of the Law," and the Law is a transcript of the 
perfections of Deity. Sin, then, is the violation of 
God's own rights as our King, Law-giver, Father and 
Redeemer. So then, he that sins is contending 
against the Almighty. Beloved, do not let us talk 
about "little sins." No one ever became an outra- 
geous sinner at once. It is sinning by degrees that 
auo^ments us into incorrio:ible sinners. 

In the British navy a ship was ordered so con- 
structed that every timber in it should undergo a 
strict inspection, and no stick should be used in this 
war structure that was the least defective. A car- 
penter was at work on a huge oak beam, into 
which he thrust the point of his scratch-awl. He at 
once called the attention of the inspector to the 
defect. He came and examined it, and turned 



SERMONS. 397 

away, saying, '*It is nothing but a little worm hole. 
It never can do any damage." The noble ship was 
completed, rigged and furnished with every appoint- 
ment for a long voyage, with a noble staff of officers 
and seamen. But when far out on old ocean, she 
was found to be weak in an important place. Search 
was made, and to the astonishment of all, it was 
found out that the timber with a little worm hole 
was now perforated through and through with worm 
holes, and was but little better than a stick of sand. 
It was so placed as to receive the greatest strain. 
Orders were given to steer for the nearest port. 
But soon a storm came on, and the two combined 
forces of wind and wave grappled with it, and the 
new ship, staunch and strong as all supposed, was 
conquered. It became the victim of the sea. It 
went to the bottom, carrying all on board but three, 
to tell the sad tale of the disaster caused by the 
little worm hole. Precious lives and costly freight 
go to the bottom continually in the great world 
from just such insignificant causes. 

Sin that may at the time be but little, if not 
repented of will bring destruction like a whirlwind, 
and send the sinner to the bottom of the great abyss 
beyond the hope of recovery. Little sins and 



398 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

great sins are of the same family. One has grown 
to great proportions. The other is growing. Then 
be persuaded to break off your sins by turning to 
Jesus, in whom alone all true happiness and all 
safety are found. 

2. 'AH men are persuaded to become Chris- 
tians by the consideration of what Christ has 
accomplished. The love of God in giving the 
Son of His love, is an incentive of the highest 
order. It not only claims your attention, but 
it demands your admiration and homage. God 
so loved the world of sinners. "/S'o" — that little 
word "50/" Oh, sinner, I wish you and I under- 
stood it ! So loved the sinner as to give His only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might 
not perish but have everlasting life. And then, in 
addition to all this, consider the appliances and 
influences set at work to persuade you to yield to 
the claims of the Gospel : "For the love of Christ 
constraineth us ; because we thus judge, that if one 
died for all, then were all dead." The love of Christ 
urges you to stop and think how much Jesus has 
suffered for you. Were there ever love like His? 
'Tor God is love." (i. John iv. 8.) All His per- 
fections and procedures are but so many modifica- 



SERMONS. 399 

tions of his love. What is His omnipotence but 
the arm of His love ? What is His omniscience 
but the medium through which he contemplates the 
objects of His love ? What is His wisdom but the 
scheme of His love? What are the offers of 
the Gospel but the invitations of His love ? What 
the threatenings of the law but the warnings of His 
love? They are the hoarse voice of His love, say- 
ing, "Man, do thyself no harm." They are a fence 
thrown around the pit of destruction, to prevent 
rash men from rushing into ruin. What was the 
incarnation of the Savior but the richest illustration 
of His love? What were the miracles of Christ 
but the condescensions of His love? What were 
the prayers of Christ but the pleadings of His love ? 
What were the tears of Christ but the dew-drops of 
His love ? What is this earth but the theater for a 
display of His love ? What is heaven but the Alps 
of His mercy, from whose summits His blessings, 
flowing down in a thousand streams, descend to 
water and refresh His Church, situated at its base ? 
Stop a moment, and consider what the Spirit is 
doing for your enlightenment to make you see the 
depravity of your nature. Unnumbered influences 
at work to lead you in a way you know not ! Pray- 



400 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

ing friends are daily and nightly weeping at a mercy 
seat, saying, "Spare, O Lord, O spare my son or 
my daughter from going down to the pit ! " 

And then think of what's only a little in advance 
for you to meet — one of two vast considerations : 
a heaven of light and uncreated glory, where 
Beauty and Purity, Holiness, Goodness, in fact 
everything to increase one's happiness with the good 
of all ages ; and the consideration of being without 
any interest in Jesus, without one assurance that 
you have accepted the proffered pardon. You will 
have to say, "I must be deprived of the associations 
of all Christian friends, and never see the face of 
the Crucified One." 

3. The vast future in ^ which all your interests are 
concealed. Eternity ! Eternity ! There your best 
friends have taken up their abode. Perhaps your 
dear old mother, or your father, has long been 
employed with the sainted hosts of God's dear chil- 
dren, and with celestial voice and fingers skilled in 
divine art, has been swelling the song uninterrupted, 

" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us." 

Do you not desire to join in that song ? or do you still 
choose to vacillate and hesitate and turn a deaf ear 



SEKMONS. 401 

to the Sweetest Charmer? Hear Him : "Unto you, 
O men, I call ; and my voice is to the sons of man. 
O ye simple, understand wisdom ; and ye fools, be 
ye of an understanding heart." 

Two inferences : — 

(a) Is it not wisdom for you to be a Christian in 
reality, at whatever cost ? Do you not feel that it 
would be highest attainment of wisdom to be able to 
say, 

Jesus, I my cross have taken, 

All to leave and follow thee. 
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, 

Thou from hence my all shalt be." 

(5) Do not be contented in being almost a Chris- 
tian. Contentment while in this state is as fatal as 
contentment in the most open and rebellious con- 
dition. Contentment in any condition short of 
personal union and fellowship with God through 
Christ, is a trick of the devil. Contentment in 
being almost a Christian is the stupor that leads to 
eternal death. Arouse yourself from it. Shake off 
the fatal spell, and not debar yourself from all that's 
good in time and eternity. 



402 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, 

THE DISPLEASURE OF GOD WITH THE INDOLENT. 

" Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the 
inhabitants thereof, because they came not up to the help of the Lord, 
to the help of the Lord against the mighty."— Judges v : 23. 

It is evident that Meroz was so situated that it 
could have rendered important and essential aid to 
the cause of Israel, in their conflict with the enemy, 
if it had been so disposed. But Meroz, assuming 
the same sentiment and position of very many of 
the present time, thought it prudent to be neutral in 
this conflict for right and for liberty. How many 
there are who study the devil's dictionary to find 
a comfortable definition of the word pimdence^ and 
they and their friends laud them to the skies for 
their wise forecast and "prudent" conduct, in not 
being identified with the radical and revolutionary 
Spirit that is stirring perhaps the entire nation to the 
depths, in the interests of humanity and justice ! It 
was so a few years since in the agitation against 
American slavery for over forty years. The same 
has been true in the temperance reform. Men and 
ministers have stood and looked on with stoic indif- 



SERMONS. 403 

ference, while drunkards have been made by law, 
and thousands have gone down to drunkards' graves 
within their personal knowledge. 

They see these friends and acquaintances go down 
to a drunkard's undone eternity, and then with a 
linen handkerchief they wipe their mouths with as 
smooth grace as if they had been to a banquet. If 
prompted to speak, it has been to say, "Well, these 
hot-headed cold water men are responsible for this. 
Moderation would have been far better. By their 
hot haste they have driven men to sell it, and men 
that love it will drink it, if they can get it." This 
is morality with a vengeance, taking the side of 
Belial against Christ and humanity. These are your 
men who pride themselves on their great prudence ; 
conservative souls that are not fit for the Kingdom 
of heaven. Christ has no need of men who think 
more of how to retreat than advance ; who wait to 
see which way the wind blows before they start ; 
who have no idea of standing for the right till the 
right is popular. God wants revolutionists. 

This ode of Deborah was chanted at the celebra- 
tion of the victory, and while honorable mention 
was made of such as had distinguished themselves 
by deeds of valor, Meroz is referred to in terms of 



404 FRbM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

execration, and burning, blistering reproach. There 
is another day of celebration yet to come, and an 
ode to be sung by far excelling all that was ever 
heard on earth. The question is, What mention 
shall be made of you in that last day ? Shall it be 
"Curse ye me those that have stood neutral, while 
virtue and sound religion and humanity have been 
calling for help?" Or shall it be in approval, like 
that of Deborah and Barak, and those with them 
in the conflict ? 

In this discourse we propose to notice : 

I. The Conflict going on. 

II. The Help Demanded. 

III. The evident Results of the Conflict. 
I. The Conflict now in Progress. 

1. Error has waged a war against Truth, and has 
aroused all her minions to overthrow it, by every 
possible strategy known to a barbarous and savage 
warfare. Its most common attacks, are to assume 
the garb of Truth. But it is Truth perverted for the 
sake of advantage. "For the wrath of God is 
revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and 
unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in 
unrighteousness." (Romans, i. 18.) 

A few specifications. "All men will be saved, no 



SERMONS. 405 

matter what their sins or character may be. Salva- 
tion is sure." "Jesus was a good man, but not 
divine, nor equal with God." Carnal will substi- 
tuted for divine obedience and submission to the 
Gospel of Christ ; human merit for Christ's suffering 
and atonement. These all hold the Truth in 
unrighteousness, and are the scouting parties sent 
out by the devil to reconnoiter the outworks of 
Zion's fortress, while Truth stands in her white uni- 
form, bidding defiance to these sons of Belial, and 
near by her, within bugle-sound, are encamped 
these "wise," "discreet," cowardly, chicken-hearted 
professed friends of both parties, with their field- 
glasses taking observations. Many of them members 
of the church, and at the last election voting for the 
captain of this same squad to sell strychnine whisky, 
or are renting some low dance-house, or gambling- 
hell, or its twin sister, a gay shop where drunkards 
are finished up in the latest style for perdition. 
This is Meroz, that takes no part in the conflict now 
going on against Zion. No marvel that God's angel 
should say : "Curse ye Meroz." 

2. The conflict is waged with superhuman effort 
to make the avowed friends of Jesus subserve the 
wicked purposes of the enemy. 



406 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

The young convert of Christ is attacked in his 
weakest point. With blandest smiles the enemy 
says : "Let all your religious actions be with the 
greatest moderation. Keep cool, quite cool, on all 
matters of a spiritual nature. Join with the world 
in its social recreations. Xo harm for a Christian 
to play bilKards ; why, our minister keeps a bil- 
liard table in his house, right adjoining the study; 
and his wife said she would dance, if it were not 
for the speech of some of the members of his 
church who think it not right. Why, you look 
fatigued ; won't you take a glass of wine ? — it will 
not hurt you? Our minister drinks it at his table 
every day. Oh, how I wish you could have been at 
Mrs. Snodinglove's party, the other evening. We 
had a very pleasant time indeed. You know she is 
a member of our church, and she thinks it no harm 
for Christians to go to the theatre or circus. She 
is very fond of dancing too." 

Thus, by the time this gabbling daughter of 
Jezebel has finished her tittle-tattle to a convert 
just espoused to Jesus, if he is not well on his 
guard, ten chances to one if he is not taken captive 
at the will of the devil, so that when sister Light- 
minded has her "levee," he is there to subserve the 



SERMONS. 407 

cause and machinations of these enemies of God and 
His anointed. Joined in affinity with the world, 
his religion has become cool indeed. No more deep 
solicitude for their young companions to come to 
the cross. No more singing in the spirit, and with 
the understanding : 

" Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ; 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me. 
Still all my song ehall be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee." 

" Ye did run well ; who did hinder you that ye 
should not obey the truth?" (Gal. v. 7.) 

"As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the 
Lord, so walk ye in Him." (Col. ii. 6.) 

Thus they have joined the neutrality party ; and 
they too tliink our religious sentiments and convic- 
tions should be expressed with great "coolness." 
"Coolness" means coldness toward Christ when 
rightly interpreted. 

n. The help demanded in this crisis of the 
conflict. 

To help the Lord "against the mighty," is the 
key note of the conflict. 



408 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

1. The duty of the ministers of Jesus to expose 
the falsehood and sophistry of every lying spirit. 
Not only is it the duty of the servants of Christ to 
defend the Truth and Zion in her possession of it, 
but to carry the war into the enemy's camp, showing 
no quarter to a rebellious foe. Throw everything 
at the devil ; like Luther, throw your inkstand at 
him, if you have nothing else ; or like Whitefield 
at the Moorfields, preach Christ and Him crucified, 
to the surging mob ; or like John Knox at Saint 
Mary's, in the face of armed soldiers threatening 
him, "stand up for Jesus," and proclaim "the 
acceptable year of the Lord," and "the day of ven- 
geance of our God." Christ, Paul, Peter, John the 
Baptist, all set the ministers of after generations a 
good example in this line of muiisterial duty. We 
venture the assertion that full one-half of the 
declension in our churches is caused by the cringing, 
sycophantic, cowardly conduct of the professed 
ambassadors of Christ, — mere men-pleasers ; God- 
dishonoring representatives of the highest calling on 
earth. "I use great plainness of speech." 

If all the evangelical ministers professing the 
doctrine of salvation by faith in Jesus, were to come 
out in the spirit of the Gospel, and make an on- 



SERMONS. 409 

slaught on the powers of darkness, as they now 
array themselves in the land, Romanism with all its 
idol mummery and anti-Christ priestcraft, Universal- 
ism, Unitarianism, and polished skepticism would all 
evaporate like the rank vapors before the rising sun. 
We have a few who have the moral courage to enter 
the lists, and declare the whole counsel of God, to a 
lost and depraved world of sinners. We have a 
superabundance of lectures and essays and pretty 
nonsensical gibberish, without point and effect upon 
man's moral and religious being. Some think these 
efforts have -warmth. But the vitality is only gal- 
vanic, and the heat that of a corpse warmed by 
lying in the sun. No vital connection with Christ 
and the Spirit, and consequently no stir of the soul ! 
The demand is for God-fearing, Christ-loving, and 
sinner-reclaiming, reformation preachers, of a free 
and full Gospel, and that now come "to the help of 
the Lord against the mighty." 

2. The demand is also for all the people of God 
to "come to the help of the Lord." 

All, both male and female, can find something to 
do, and that to good advantage, if they only had 
the disposition. The women of our churches have 
always been more efficient, according to their sphere, 



410 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

than the men. Here, in this contest, "Jael, the wife 
of Heber," struck the final blow : 

"Then Jael, Heber's wife, took a nail of the tent, 
and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly 
unto him, and smote the nail into his temples, and 
fastened it into the ground : for he was fast asleep 
and weary. So he died. 

"And, behold, as Barak pursued Sisera, Jael 
came out to meet him, and said unto him. Come, 
and I will shew thee the man whom thou seekest. 
And when he came into her tent, behold, Sisera lay 
dead, and the nail was in his temples. 

"So God subdued on that day Jabin, the king of 
Canaan, before the children of Israel. 

"And the hand of the children of Israel pros- 
pered, and prevailed against Jabin, the king of 
Canaan, until they had destroyed Jabin, king 
of Canaan." (Judges iv. 21-24.) 

We are glad to say here that the movement now 
being made by the women of our churches is accom- 
plishing much for missions abroad and at home. An 
evangelical power is being felt that will save the 
churches from the dead calm of a stupid formality. 
Deborah was compelled to be in the vanguard, 
taking the place of the man who should have been 



SERMONS. 411 

first. (See Judges iv. 4-9.) Let it be the prayer 
of the church for the Lord to raise up Deborahs all 
over the land. Let every man in Zion do something 
to advance the cause of our common Christianity. 
We need not wait for the colleges and theological 
schools to send them out. K the laymen of the 
churches would only take this thing in hand, under 
the all-controlling influence of the Spirit of God, 
our whole land would resound with the voice of 
singing and victory, from Maine to California, from 
Florida to the Canadas. We need Sunday school 
men and women who have vim and religious 
vivacity. We need more life and spiritual power 
in our prayer and social meetings of the church. 
Exhortation that is stirring in its appeals to the 
impenitent, when do we hear? The world is God's 
workshop, in which He demands help of every kind 
to carry on the work of saving sinners, and to bring 
this conflict to a successful close. We need another 
Ehud in our camp. (See Judges iii. 14-22.) 

" Soldiers of Christ, arise and gird your armor on, 
Strong in the strength which God supplies 
Through His eternal Son." 

Xet US call your attention, 

in. To the evident Kesults of this Contest. 



412 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

1. It will lead each individual disciple of Jesus to 
examine his motives for enlisting in this campaign 
against sin. Quite a number have gone into the 
conflict for the spoils, as their fruits do show — 
loaves and fish followers of Christ ! They have 
joined the church to be made comfortable and to be 
pleased with the "brilliant discourses" of some 
minister who has the reputation of being an eloquent 
pulpit orator, who was never so vulgar as to 
pronounce that awful category of words, "hell," 
"perdition," "damnation," "lost souls," "judgment 
day," "day of wrath." (See Ezekiel xxxiii. 31, 32.) 

"And they come unto Thee as the people cometh, 
and they sit before Thee as my people, and they 
hear Thy words, but they will not do them : for 
with their mouth they show much love, but their 
heart goeth after their covetousness. 

**And, lo, Thou art unto them as a very lovely 
song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play 
well on an instrument: for they hear Thy words, 
but they do them not." 

This scene is acted over in our day, to all intents. 
You take away this kind of bread and butter, these 
sweet meals of human relish, and they will join a 
club of infidels : from the simple fact that their 



SEBMONS. 413 

motives were not pure when they enlisted. But if 
they joined the cause for the love of Christ, then 
they will stand by in storm and sunshine, in battle 
and in peace, in life and in death. 

2. Another result will be that en*or will yield 
to the truth when wielded in the name of Jehovah. 
It is irresistible : "For the Word of God is quick, 
and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged 
sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of 
soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and 
is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the 
heart." — (Heb. iv. 12.) I do not believe that one 
instance can be found where a church or a minister 
commenced under the guiding and controlling influ- 
ences of the Truth as it is in Jesus, but sooner or 
later was victorious over error, and made the 
infidelity and skepticism of the place bite the dust, 
and many of the strongest opposers come over to 
the side of Truth, and say, in the deep simplicity 
of their natures : 

" I yield, I jrield; 
I can hold out no longer." 

3. It must result in uniting the people of God in 
a permanent and healthy fellowship for each other. 



414 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

Old jealousies and heart-burnings will cease and 
give place to the song : 

"From whence doth this union arise, 
That hatred is conquered by love ? 
It fastens our souls in such ties 
As distance and time can't remove." 

"Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for 
brethren to dwell together in unity : 

"/j5 is like the precious ointment upon the head, 
that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard ; 
that went down to the skirts of his garments ; 

"As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that 
descended upon the mountains of Zion : for there 
the Lord commanded the blessing, even for life 
evermore." (Psalm cxxxiii. 1-3.) 

Pastor and people will not only work in harmony 
together, but a growing respect for each other will 
be manifested in their several spheres of labor. It 
is only in this sense that a church is edified in the 
Truth in the highest acceptation of that term, 
"edified in love." Oh, blessed result to be the 
people enjoying such a state ! 

Remarks. — 1. Brethren, are we identified in this 
conflict, and doing good battle for the Master on 
Zion's side? God has said : "Woe to them that are 



SERMONS. 415 

at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of 
Samaria, which are named chief of the nations, to 
whom the house of Israel came !" (Amos vi. 1.) 

2. The day of final celebration of all the victories 
achieved for Christ is soon to come. What honor- 
able mention shall be made of you and of me in that 
day ? Shall it be like that of Deborah and Barak ? 
or like that of Meroz, Jael and Sisera? God forbid 
the latter ! 

3. Victory is sure to all those who enlist under 
the Captain of our Salvation, and the triumph of 
the saints is the defeat of the sinner. Our God has 
said that no weapon formed against Zion shall 
prosper. He is not wanting in means to carry on 
the conflict. He can save hj many or by few : 

"And Jonathan said to the young man that bare 
his armour, Come, and let us go over unto the 
garrison of these uncircumcised : it may be that the 
Lord will work for us : for there is no restraint to 
the Lord to save by many or by few. 

"And his armour-bearer said unto him, Do all 
that is in thy heart : turn thee ; behold, I am with 
thee according to thy heart." (I Sam. xiv. 6.) 

God will hasten the victory in His time. See 
that ye be not found fighting against God and the 
Truth. Amen. 



416 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



A NIGHT WITH THE " RACKENSACKS " AND ''PUKES. 

All Western people will understand what is meant 
by the above names. But, for the instruction of 
our friends in the East, we "rise to explain." 

A Rackensack is a dweller in Arkansas, of the 
loafer order ; and a Puke is a rough of Missouri, or 
a "border ruffian." 

I was called to visit the south-eastern portion of 
Kansas, in connection with a young minister of our 
denomination. As we proceeded on our journey, 
towards evening we discovered that a storm was 
rising in the north, and that it would overtake us 
before we could cross Sugar Creek to a settlement, 
where we expected to find entertainment for the 
night among friends. So we were obliged to stop 
at a place called the "Three Stone Houses," lying 
between Fort Scott and Ottawa. 

These three houses were rude structures of stone, 
laid up without mortar or any visible design. One 
was a barn, and one of the two houses proper was 



417 

unoccupied. The third was occupied by an old 
woman and her son, the husband and father having 
been killed in the border ruffian war of 1855-56. 

We asked for entertainment, and the old lady told 
us we could stay ; but as her son was not at home, 
we would have to take care of our horses ourselves, 
at least until her son came. He was expected soon, 
if he was not delayed by the storm. We complied 
with the conditions, and went in to wait for supper. 
While she was making ready our coffee and bacon 
and corn cake, she looked out of the window and 
exclaimed : 

"Good Lord, have mercy; there comes them 
devils of Missouri and Arkansas. The Lord only 
knows what I shall do if Davey don't come." I 
inquired: "WTiy, what's the matter with them? 
They won't hurt you, I think." 

In they came , and addressed the old matron : 
"Wall, old woman, have you got any whisky in 
these diggins? If you have, draw et out quicker 
than a badger can hunt his hole." The old lady 
replied by saying : "We don't keep it for anybody. 
Dave did have a little he got for snake bites ; but 
I don't know where he keeps it, if he has got any." 
At this one of the Pukes said: "Wall, he haint. 



418 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

got any now — we sucked out the last of that air 
stuff when we were here last week ;" and continued 
by asking, "Where is your Davey?" "He has been 
gone all day at Mapleton, and will be at home, if he 
can get here, before the storm comes." "Wall, 
there'll be a storm if he don't bring some of the 

critter, for we want to liquidate as bad as ." 

At which all set up a coarse and vulgar laugh. 

A Rackensack bawled out, "Come, old gal, stir 
your dancing pegs and get us something to eat, for 
we are as hungry as five wolves, and can eat all 
there is in this shanty as quick as lightning can 
strike a dry cottonwood." 

She replied : " I have no more coffee until Dave 
gets here, as I have just made all I have for these 
strangers, and a scant mite for them. I reckon it 
will be mighty weak too, but it's all I had in the 
house until Dave gets home. There, strangers, set 
up and take such as it is." Poor coffee, rusty bacon, 
and corn-cake baked on the stove, as griddle-cakes 
are baked, only it was about an inch thick, browned 
on both sides, and looked about as much like a 
No. 7 griddle to a stove, as a cake. 

As we sat down to the table, I said to ray young 
Reverend companion : "Ask a blessing." He shook 



"rackensaoks" and "pukes." 419 

his head, and said : "I will join with you." So I 
gave thanks in words something like the following : 
"Ever blessed Father of all our mercies, sanctify 
this sweet portion of Thy bounty, to our nourish-r 
ment and comfort, and may we consider the heart 
and hand that supply us, for Christ's sake, Amen." 
And the old woman said : "Amen ; bless the Lord." 

At that moment, a voice at the door called out : 
"mam, come and take the things in quick." Dave 
had come. Soon she returned with a paper of 
coffee, a dozen of candles, and three boxes of 
matches. As she laid them on the bed in the corner 
of the room, one of the Pukes said: "Wall, hain't 
Dave brought any whisky, old gal?" She answered : 
"Not as I can see, if he has, it is in his saddle-bags." 

Up jumped three of them and they went to the 
stone shed to find Dave, or what they most desired, 
the whisky. Soon the storm of wind and rain burst 
upon the house with great fury and force, and in 
came Dave and the hunters after whisky, in great 
haste, but no whisky had come. 

The old lady at once set herself to get supper for 
her son and the roughs. 

As we closed our frugal meal, the young Domine 
said to me in a whisper: "Brother Stimson, I wish 
we had gone on, I don't feel safe here. These are a 



420 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

bad set of roughs, and there is no knowing what 
they may do before morning." I replied in a low 
whisper: "Well, now hold up your head and stop 
your looking so much like a coward. Be a man. It 
will only make the matter worse if they see your 
timidity." 

I sat down by the stove and stirred the coffee for 
the old woman, and then ground it for her and her 
guests, while she baked the second installment of 
corn-cake, and fried the second batch of bacon, fill- 
ing the whole house with an odor similar to what I 
have enjoyed in a soap-chandler's establishment, only 
more so. As soon as I had finished my task in the 
cooking department, I commenced singing a hymn 
that my young friend could have joined in if he 
would : 

" Hark, my soul, it is the Lord, 

'Tis the Savior, hear his Word ; 
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee : 

Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me.'* 

All was as still and quiet as a funeral, the moment 

the singing commenced. When we came to the 

third stanza : 

" Can a woman's tender care 

Cease towards the child she bare? 
Yes, she may forgetful be; 
Yet will I remember thee.*' 



421 

One large, brawny fellow took his coat-tail up 
and wiped his eyes, turning his face away from the 
light. By this time supper was ready, and they 
gathered around the table to supply their needs. 
They sat and ate their meal in quietness, speaking 
in respectful terms to the old lady. 

The storm had now so abated that my companion 
and myself stepped out of the door, and going a 
little way from the house, I said; "I shall call on 
you to read the Bible, and I want you to read the 
xviiith chapter of Luke, and then we will sing again 
and have prayers. The old lady is a Christian, I am 
quite confident, and one of these roughs has a tender 
spot in his heart. So we went in again. I spoke to 
the old lady : "Well, madam, shall we spend a little 
time in devotion, before we lie down to rest? We 
all need protection, and it is well for us to commit 
ourselves to God as our Father and Protector." 

"Oh yes, I reckon it would be so nice ; I have not 
heard a man pray since my poor husband was shot 
in 1856. We then had a man here to help bury him 
out on the prairie, and he prayed." 

"Was your husband shot, madam?" we asked. 
**Yes, he was shot while we were milking our cows. 
It was in the time of our troubles here on the bor- 



422 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

der. Dave was then a little boy, and we had a 
pretty little girl, next younger than Dave, and she 
never got over the fright of that awful time. If we 
could a got back to Injiana, we should a gone, but 
we had no money, and all our oxen had been stolen, 
and here Dave and I have stayed ever since." 

I called on the young brother, and we sang again, 
and then I asked them all to kneel down with us 
while I made supplication to the Almighty Father 
for protecting care during the watches of the night. 
There was no more loud talking or profanity there 
that night. As we stepped out of the door while 
the young man covered the floor with blankets for 
our beds, I heard one of them say to his companion, 
as they stood around in the dark : "Wall, Buck, I 
should think that old 'feller was John Brown, if he 
wan't hung by them Virginians." ffis friend replied : 
" It may be him arter all. He was a slippery old 
cuss, and it may be he gave them the dodge, or got 
somebody hung in his place." 

There was no more said about whisky, no more 
swearing, no more impertinent talk to the old lady 
of the house. All was as quiet as a first-class hotel, 
except the loud snoring. At daylight my young 
brother and myself started off on our journey again, 
driving twelve miles before breakfast. 



THE irishman's stoey. 423 

THE IRISHIVIAN's MIRACLE OF THE LOAVES AND 
FISHES. 

An Irishman in his travels found a New Testa- 
ment, and, having a moment's leisure, sat down and 
read the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, after 
which he went on his journey, and, meeting a coun- 
tryman, said, " Pat, I have just read a curious book 
to-day." <« An' pfat book have ye read, Mike?" 
** Well, it's about the Lord Jesus, ye know ; it tells 
all about the twelve Apostles, ye know, Pat. How, 
wanst upon a time they were all out in the woods 
together, and the Apostles got farefully hungry, ye 
know: and the Lord Jesus took five hundred fishes 
and seven thousand loaves of bread and blessed 
them — an' the twelve Apostles ate them all up, 
sure." **But Mike," said Pat, ** I don't see any 
miracle." ' * Hunch me Honey, isn't it a miracle they 
didn't all bust afther aitin so many ? " 

The above stor}^ has served Father Stimson so 
well on such a variety of occasions, it well deserves 
a place among those in which he has been a personal 
actor. The story itself, if not the application he 
made of it, will be remembered a long time by 
those who laughed over his inimitable telling of it 
at the General Association, held at Topeka, Kansas, 
October 1873. 



CONCLUSION. 

A PEKSONAL SKETCH, BY THE EDITOR. 

Father Stimson is a character ; every man is not. 
He isn't just like anybody else. When in his 
presence, you are at once satisfied that he has opin- 
ions. When you have heard him talk, either in 
conversation or public discourse, you are more 
convinced that his ideas are his own, and that he 
would sacrifice everything rather than yield them. 
He is not obstinate. Mere human opinions on 
which men have a right to differ, he is as ready to 
change or give up as any man need to be. Reli- 
gious principles he holds as inviolably sacred. No 
one who has ever heard him preach, can forget the 
solemnity with which he speaks of these. Eather 
than yield one of them, he would sufier the loss of 
all things. Bred according to the Scotch-Irish 
Presbyterian rule, and educated in the high school 
of Baptist faith and practice, it is not to be won- 
dered at that he has the grit of a reformer. He has 
preached the gospel the Master has bidden him, 
asking no questions, and neither daring nor wishing 
to make the least modification. He couldn't have 
been anything else but a Baptist. His impatience of 
human authority in matters of conscience, his radical 
nature, his disregard of what is simply time-honored, 
his scorn of the double-edged weapons of ridicule 
and custom, his loyalty to the truth, and his supreme 
love of his Divine Master, have qualified him for 
the enjoyment of the fellowship and service of the 
church for a place in which he made such a struggle 
in early life. Certainly in these qualities he is a 
representative Baptist. 



PERSONAL SKETCH. 425 

If Father Stimsox should find a weak Baptist 
church in a place, with little or no "social standing," 
he would go to work at once Xp make it stronger. 
He would do the same thing if he were not a min- 
ister. If there were no church in the place, he 
would set himself to the delightful task of prepar- 
ing a people, by Divine help, for church fellowship. 

All must respect the man who, without the 
advantages of an education, rises superior to the 
majority — the great majority — of those who are 
educated. College-bred men often leave school so 
conscious of theii- advantages over uneducated men 
as to make no habitual efforts afterwards to main- 
tain their advantages. Those not so favored in 
youth, often go through life with the spur of con- 
scious disadvantage. By this they are stimulated to 
great and constant effort for self improvement, and 
soon outstrip those who were far in advance to begin 
with — hare and tortoise. Father Stimson has accom- 
plished more in the world for God an(J humanity 
than is the average work of a College and Seminary 
educated minister. 

Two or three of the natural qualities that have 
helped him in his otherwise unassisted work deserve 
special mention. First, his memory. This is 
remarkable. It's not a memory for one class of 
subjects alone, but for facts and principles, dates, 
names and words, and for one as much as for 
another. Memory is as distinguishing a faculty as 
man possesses. It gives a man more aid in public 
life than any other faculty, unless it be the gift of 
superior speech. It has helped him more than any 
one knows, except himself, in all his public work. 
It has given him a great conunand of Scripture and 



426 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 

hymn quotations in the pulpit and prayer-meeting. 
It has given him^ the apt story in public addresses 
and private conversation. It has given him great 
advantage in argument, supplying him with the 
needed quotations from authors. It has been abso- 
lutely indispensable in the preparation of this 
auto-biography. With the previously -prepared 
manuscript all lost in Chicago, he had to begin 
again, and after two years had passed. The facil- 
ity with which he remembered dates and facts and 
names and conversations, and dashed them down 
with his pencil, is known to at least one other 
person. I shall always have one proof that I am 
hot lazy in the speed with which my pen followed 
his pencil. 

His tact in reply to grave argument or witty 
personal assault, is another trait of mind that will 
be remembered as long as he is remembered. An 
Irishman by parentage, he is never wanting in quick 
repartee and apt anecdote most forcibly told. He 
has an almost exhaustless fund .of humor and anec- 
dote. If argument would not serve his puipose 
when attacked or making a point, some quaint 
saying of somebody's or some resistless story would 
always come in at the right moment, and he would 
carry off the laurels. He is the soul of any company 
in which he feels at home. As to others, his wit 
makes them feel at home. No sketch of him would 
have been complete without a chapter of stories and 
jokes. 

He is a man of large practical common sense. 
He despises shams. He sees the best way out of a 
tight place as soon as he is in it. His advice to 
people similarly situated is of great value. His 



:^ 



PERSONAL SKETCH. 427 

common sense doesn't desert him when he comes to 
matters of religion. He reasons upon Christianity 
as he would on any subject requiring the use of 
reason, but never without making the broad distinc- 
tion that exists between it and all other forms of 
religion. 

He has a fair share of originality of thought and 
expression. His imagination, too, is more than 
ordinary. The happy combination of these qualities 
and others, and the conscientious use of them through 
public life, have made him a power in the denom- 
ination. 

He belongs to a race of men that is rapidly passing 
away. The places that now know them will soon 
know them no more. The need of pioneer men — 
especially of the angular, eccentric, original, self- 
made stamp to which he belongs — is fast ceasing to 
exist. They have nobly done a great work, a work 
smoother men could not have done. Peace to 
their ashes. Peaceful years to those who remain 
among us. 



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